In the Shadow of the Monster
by KeepCalmAndFictionOn
Summary: He came to her by moonlight; this creature who would claim nothing less than her life, her world...and her heart. This is the untold story of Jane Foster's little sister Charlotte, and her descent into darkness.
1. Moonlight

She would never forget the first night he came to her.

It was the first day at a new school. Again. Daddy said that this town would be good for them. That he could make it big here. He always said that. Ever since Mama had died eight years before he had been saying that. Never staying in one place long enough to call it a home.

She was never a good student. Oh, she was smart, but she resented confinement and discipline. Before she had completed the fifth grade, the name "Charlotte Foster" was written in dark ink on every naughty list in every school she had ever attended.

She promised herself that she would be good. That she would make her Daddy proud. But the restless beast in her spirit never allowed her any peace.

That day, she had come back to their rented home with dragging feet, after being kept after classes. She opened the door quietly, took off her shoes, and went into the kitchen.

"How was school?" Daddy asked. He didn't look at her. He kept staring down at the half-empty bottle in his fist, and the half-dozen others strewn about.

She drew closer to him, longing for a look, a word, anything to make her feel like he noticed her.

"Well?" he demanded when she didn't reply.

"It was fine, Daddy," she said quietly.

He nodded, but didn't reply, didn't look up from his dissipation.

The rejection stung just as much as it always did. Through a blur of unshed tears, she ascended the narrow stairs to her small room on the second floor. She peeped through her sister's door as she passed it. Jane was curled up under the covers, fast asleep. She had been sick lately, and was still recovering.

Feeling empty and alone, Charlotte drew her bedroom door closed behind her. She turned on a light and glanced at the clock. Seven o'clock. She rooted through her backpack and emerged with homework and a candy bar left over from lunch. Most of the other kids in her grade five class had mothers to pack their lunches and make their suppers when they went home, but Charlotte was used to caring for herself.

Curling up on her bed, she perused her assignments, scribbled at some of them half-heartedly, and stuffed them back in her bag before an hour was up. Discarding her clothes in a corner, she pulled on an over-sized T-shirt that served as pyjamas, brushed her teeth and hair, and turned out the light before diving under the covers.

She was wandering in the strange place between dreams and reality when a sound made her eyes fly open. Sitting up in bed, she froze as she made out the shadowy silhouette of a man standing in front of her bed. The full moon shone through the window behind him, illuminating his figure in a pale, cold light. Charlotte could not find breath to call out, or strength to run, but sat immobilized as the figure stepped towards her. As he drew close, the light shifted and suddenly his features were visible.

He had black hair, which fell like raven feathers to his broad shoulders. His lips and skin were pale, pale as the moonlight shining on the floor, and his eyes were a pale green, like the color of sea foam. He was dressed in an ordinary T-shirt and jeans, yet the manner of his bearing made them seem very unordinary.

Charlotte sat breathless, fear and wonder battling for dominance within her. For long moments they stared at each other, silent. Finally, she found her voice.

"Are you a vampire?" Her voice quivered slightly as she spoke.

He drew even closer, leaning over her as he answered. "What if I am?"

He spoke softly, his voice refined, educated, with a touch of huskiness and an English lilt to it.

She stared up at him with wide eyes, until finally he smiled, a brilliant smile that took her off guard. He sat slowly on the edge of her bed, his eyes never leaving her face.

"What's your name?" he asked, his tone still gentle.

"What's _yours_?" she countered. "And why are you here?"

He was silent, gaze searching hers as he slowly reached up and brushed a stray lock of auburn hair off her forehead. His fingers were icy cold, yet soothing, and Charlotte felt herself slowly relax, a wave of exhaustion overcoming her.

"Sleep, young one," he murmured as she lay back down and nestled her head into her pillow. He pulled her covers up and stood and turned as if to leave.

"You never told me your name," she said sleepily.

He turned, his pale features eerie in the moon's cold light. She barely heard his answer as she slipped into the wasteland of dreams, but one word played on the corners of her thoughts all through the night.

"Loki."


	2. Guardian

Three days passed with no more visits from the stranger. Charlotte was beginning to think it had been a dream, until the fourth night.

It was close to midnight, and she was still awake. She'd lost the nightly battle with her battered emotions, and a small pool of saltwater was steadily accumulating on her pillow.

"Why are you sad, little one?"

The quiet voice instantly gave pause to her grief, and Charlotte sat up.

"You're back," she said. "I thought you were a dream."

"Perhaps I am a dream."

"No," she said after regarding him for a moment. "I don't think you are. My dreams are always frightening. You're too beautiful to come from them."

Her candidness made him smile. "So why were you weeping?" he asked again.

She glanced down at the sheets she still held, clenched in her little fists. "My Daddy hits me sometimes," she said in a small voice. "I don't think he really loves me. He used to. Before Mama died, I remember him saying he loved me."

With her gaze still directed down, she didn't see the tightening of his jaw, or the way his emerald eyes hardened like flint.

"He hits you?" Loki asked in a measured voice.

She hesitated again before answering. "Yes. Sometimes."

There was a long silence before Loki spoke again.

"Where I come from, it is said that for every tear you cry, a Valkyrie is born."

"What's that?" she asked, tears forgotten in curiosity.

"A Valkyrie is a protecting spirit, whose job is to watch over you and care for you."

"Is that what you are?"

He smiled, but didn't answer. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew a small, silver ring. Reaching for her, he put it on the index finger of her right hand.

"That is for you," he said. "It will protect you, and give you courage."

She gazed at the small band in wonder, then up at him. "Thank you," she said softly. Looking intently at him, she said, "Why do you care what happens to me?"

"Because, Charlotte Foster, you are made for greater things than this world can offer you."

"What do you mean?"

He smiled again. "I cannot tell you that. The only way for you to find out is to live your life, and discover it for yourself. Now, you must sleep."

He stood to go, but she stopped him with another question.

"Loki? Where do you come from?"

Here came a hesitation before he replied. "A world far, far away from here."

"What's it like?"

He brushed his fingers down her jaw as he replied quietly, "Someday I'll take you there."

Years came and went. The Fosters moved several more times, but wherever they went, he always found her. She never understood how he knew where she was, but he was always there, making her laugh, telling her strange and wonderful stories of the world he came from, holding her when she cried. She started to grow up, changing from a scrawny little girl into a very pretty young woman; yet somehow, he never changed. He always appeared the same to her.

Charlotte's big sister Jane graduated university and moved out to New Mexico with her crazy scientist friend Eric, and her lifelong companion Darcy, for research purposes. Lottie didn't pretend to miss her. The relationship between the sisters had never been pleasant. The obvious favoritism showered on Jane by their father broke apart their relationship at a very young age. Jane was the good girl, the smart girl, the one who was always achieving bigger and better things. No, Lottie didn't miss her, but it meant that she was left alone with her father's alcoholism and violent temper. She had learned not to cry, or waste time feeling sorry for herself. Makeup concealed the bruises, and a glance at Loki's ring, moved to her fourth finger as she grew, healed her heart.

It was her last year of school. She was seventeen, and still just as much of a problem student as ever. Her rebellious attitude and pretty face earned her a lot of attention, mostly of the wrong kind.

It was the first week of the second semester, and she had been kept behind after classes yet again. She was gathering up the books in her locker, when a rough pair of hands seized her arms and yanked her backwards. Assessing the situation clearly, she realized that she was in serious trouble. At least half a dozen boys had her cornered; and they were trouble, the drug gang who sneaked crack into the cafeteria. She felt her breath hitch in her throat, but knew she had to keep her cool.

"What do you want?" she snapped.

They laughed, closing in on her like wolves to the kill.

"Oh, we think you already know," said one guy.

"Go to hell," she snarled, struggling futilely to escape.

The leader was within a few inches of her now.

"Not today," he whispered as he reached for her.

Just as his fingers brushed her skin, there was a tremendous crash, and the lights in the school flickered several times as a low, rumbling growl shook the floor. Bits of plaster fell from the ceiling, as the lights went off entirely, plunging them into total darkness and sudden, complete silence.

For the space of a few heartbeats, silence reined, and then panic broke out. In the confusion, Lottie escaped their grasp and ran blindly towards the doors. Bursting through, she emerged into sunshine, and the beauty of a late afternoon in winter. Confused, she glanced around, and that was when she saw him, leaning against a building across the road, wearing a leather jacket and jeans, returning her gaze with a smile.

Her faithful guardian.

Loki.


	3. Heartbeat

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It was a starless night. The wind was shrieking as it fled down the narrow alleyway. The biting chill in it reminded Loki of the desolate wastes of Jotunheim, but it didn't bother him. His mind was far too otherwise occupied to bother about such trivial matters as Midguard's five day forecast.

_So,_ he thought as he strode along the frosty pavement. _My brother's big day._ His face twisted into a cruel smile as he contemplated his plan for its ruination.

_Just a bit of fun, really._

He conjured up a glass of wine and drank it as he continued down the empty street. His mind was swirling, thoughts twisted, twisted and dark. Anger poisoned his mind and jealousy emptied his soul. It was always Thor, the favored one, the one with the shiny armour and magical hammer, who earned their father's pride. When Loki was little, he had cried silent tears and learned to keep his feelings to himself. As he grew older, those tears grew cold and bitter, until they froze his very soul. And yet, his careful patience had led him to wait, nursing his chilled heart until the perfect opportunity to play his hand. And at last, the time had come. He had nothing to lose. There was no one who had enough power over his heart to lay waste to his plans.

Except for her.

The thought brought him to a halt. _Nonsense_. She was nothing more than a plaything to him, a strange girl who had earned his compassion years ago, back when he still had compassion left to give. And yet, even now he felt a wave of fury overcome him at the thought of the boys who had tried to take advantage of her that afternoon. He had yearned to kill them, the bloodlust making his fingers itch and his vision hazy, but he had restrained himself. For her sake. He could feel her pull on his spirit, calling to him, asking him to come to her. He turned and looked east, toward her house. Closing his eyes, he could see her there, sitting cross-legged on the end of her bed, dark eyes trained on the window. She glanced down at the silver ring on her finger, and a soft smile played around the corners of her lips. Opening his eyes, he looked down at the matching ring on his hand, the one he had never told her about. Against his skin, it pulsed softly with the rhythm of her heartbeat. It was a slight thing, that wouldn't be noticed by most, and yet Loki felt it as strongly as if his hand had been pressed to her chest.

He growled in frustration. What a joke. He, a prince of Asgard, should definitely _not_ be feeling _any_ sort of attachment to a mortal, especially a mortal girl who was technically more than fifteen hundred years younger than him.

And yet, some unseen force turned his feet and propelled him forward. East.

Toward her.

Lottie.


	4. Galaxies

It was a starless night. Lottie was perched cross-legged on the end of her bed, eyes trained out the window to the skyline. Beyond the cloud cover, she knew that distant galaxies stretched on further than anyone knew. Somewhere beyond thought and time was a distant world, perched on the edge of the cosmos, overlooking all the vastness of the universe. Asgard. She glanced down at Loki's ring, remembering the promise he had made years before, to take her there someday. She smiled, her mind drifting back to those first conversations. He had come to her almost every night, then. He would sit beside her, and hold her small warm hand in his larger, cool one, and tell her strange and wonderful stories. She would listen with rapt attention, her eyes glued to his beautiful, exotic face. Now he came to her rarely.

Standing, she walked over to lean against the window frame, trying to feel closer to him. She never doubted that he was somewhere nearby. At times she felt his presence unexplainably; in a cool whisper against her skin, in a glance from a stranger, in a warmth from his ring. Yet she missed him. He had taken the place of her father in her life, as protector and friend.

But now, remembering the way he had smiled at her that afternoon, his eyes stormy, she felt a strange and powerful yearning for him. The intensity of her need caught her off guard, made her breathing hitch in her throat.

And then there was a sound behind her, and he was there.

For a moment they stared at each other in a silence only broken by the sound of their breathing.

At last Charlotte spoke. "Are you a vampire?"

The reference to their first meeting made Loki smile. "What if I am?" he replied with a chuckle, coming over to stand beside her.

"What are you thinking, little one?" he asked.

"Do you remember when you promised to take me to your world with you someday?" she asked.

"I seem to recall saying something of that nature, yes," he replied with a slight frown.

"Are you going to keep your word?" she said with a teasing smile.

"I'm afraid that taking you there now would be most unsettling to you. There are…family matters that complicate the situation."

The hardening of his tone and the tightening of his jaw did not escape her notice.

"Tell me." Her voice was soft, caring, and withered a lie even as it formed in his throat. Before he could check himself, the truth spilled from his lips, as fresh anger ignited the chill in his heart and sharpened his tone to flint.

"I'm sick of Asgard. I'm sick of playing second fiddle, of always being second-rate. How do you think it would feel to spend fifteen hundred years in the shadow of your damn fool brother, a blubbering idiot whose only ambition is for his own glory; whose only vision is his own profit; who mocks all that is holy and crushes the last vestiges of his people's respect beneath the weight of his clumsy feet? To strive with your whole being to be worthy, to make your family proud, but to remain in the shadow of the colossus no matter what actions you take? I have dwelt there long enough, but no more." His voice was a visceral snarl now, as rage transformed him. The ground trembled with the force of his wrath, and a glass sitting on the table shattered, its contents splattering the walls. "It is too late for restitution and restoration. My brother will be brought low, and at last his stupidity will be revealed for all to see."

As if suddenly remembering she were there, he spun to face Charlotte. She was watching him quietly, unflinching. Seizing her rather roughly, he shoved her up against the wall behind her.

"Why aren't you afraid of me?" he growled. "I could destroy you with a single word, little mortal."

Her dark eyes gazed into his green ones for what seemed like an eternity. "Then go ahead," she said at last, "but I am not afraid of you."

Her words seemed to bring him back to sanity. He blinked, a confused look flitting across his face for a fleeting moment, before he released her, gently. He turned away from her and back toward the window, as he sighed and ran a hand through his midnight locks.

"This brother that you hate so. Why don't you kill him?" she said.

The question caught Loki off guard. It was put calmly, easily, as if it would be natural for him to kill his own brother. He faced her again, and saw a strange spark in her eye, a dark glow that he had never seen before.

"If only it were that easy, little one, but for me to simply kill him would not bring me the revenge that I seek. Then I would be locked up in some cell to rot for eternity. No; I seek to break his spirit, not his body. I will make the mighty Thor fall so far that he will never be able to crawl back to his former…glory."

The last word was put sarcastically, accompanied by a smirk. She grinned darkly.

"So I assume you already have a plan?"

He gave a slight smile. "When do I not?"

He walked over to her. "You will not see me for a time, now." He reached for her hand, and brushed his fingers across the silver ring. "This ring contains power to protect you. If you are in danger, use it."

"How?" she asked with a puzzled look.

"You'll figure it out at the time, I'm sure," he replied with a grin.

"When will I see you again?" The slight tremble in her voice did not escape Loki's notice.

He reached for her, and for the first time in his life, he drew her into his arms. She melted into his embrace, her arms linking naturally around his neck, and her face pressing into his chest, against the steady pulse of his beating heart. He bent and rested his head on her shoulder, inhaling the scent of her hair and skin.

"I'll be watching over you," he whispered into her ear.

And suddenly, he was gone, and she was left gazing out into the endless sky.

He was somewhere out there, in the glittering expanse of the universe.

Watching over her.

Loki.


	5. Storm

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The next morning was a Saturday, but Charlotte was awake as the sun rose over the horizon. Putting on her housecoat, she padded softly across the hall and down the stairs, expecting her father to still be asleep, as usual.

Much to her surprise, she found him already awake, sitting at the table with a mug of black coffee, staring absently at a newspaper in front of him. He looked up as she came in.

"Morning," he grunted emotionlessly.

He was sober. It was the first time in months that she had seen him so.

"Good morning, Daddy," she replied quietly, wondering what the reason for his newfound sobriety could be.

"This is for you."

He pushed an envelope across the table towards where she stood. Tentatively, she reached for it, opened it, and pulled out a slip of paper.

"A plane ticket?" she asked in bewilderment.

"You're flying out to join your sister in New Mexico today. I've taken a new job, and I'll be travelling almost constantly."

"What about school? It's my last year."

"I've already made arrangements with the high school in Puerto Antigua. You start on Monday. Besides, I won't have you alone in the house. I'm going to be gone most of the time."

"I…" she hesitated, afraid of his anger, but desperate not to be sent to live with Jane. "I can manage alone just fine, Daddy. I can stay here, in the house. I can take care of myself. Please?"

"NO!" he slammed his fist on the table. Coffee sloshed out of his mug and splattered the hardwood. "You'll do as you're told! Now go pack your things. I'm driving you to the airport in two hours."

Biting back more excuses which would prove just as fruitless as the last, she turned and bolted back up the stairs. Muttering curses under her breath, she pulled out her duffel bag and starting stuffing things into it. Marching over to her table to grab her books, she stepped on something sharp and crunchy. With a yelp, she jumped back. Looking down, she saw shards of the glass that had shattered last night as Loki raged. Pieces of it littered her carpet, and dark streaks of its previous contents ran like blood down the wall behind. Her heart rate accelerated as she remembered the way his eyes had darkened, the way the muscles in his shoulders had knotted under his thin T-shirt as wrath had overcome him. Strange, how her father's anger deadened her and broke her spirit, while Loki's anger seemed to feed her, make her strong and exhilarate her.

Breaking out of her reverie, she stuffed the books in her bag along with a few other things and then hauled it downstairs. She grabbed a bite to eat, washed up, and then took one last look around the house, unsure if she'd ever see it again. Her father was calling, so she pulled on her boots and followed him out to the car. The drive to the airport was made in silence, and their parting was anything but emotional.

Sitting on the plane as it taxied down the runway, Lottie felt a strange sense of freedom. Sure, she was going to be with her aggravatingly perfect sister, but for the first time in her life, she would be out from under her father's scrutiny. She would no longer be subject to his constant inebriation and violent temper. She could begin to chart her own way in this world.

And who knows? Perhaps Loki was right. Perhaps this world would not contain her for long.

She was met at the airport by Darcy, who hadn't changed at all since the last time Lottie had seen her, two years before. Darcy kept up a running commentary for the entirety of the three-hour drive out to Puerto Antigua, with lively facial expressions and wildly animated hand gestures. Only once did she give Lottie a chance to get a word in edgewise, and it was when she said:

"Hey, how about you? You kinda look like crap, you know. How's life?"

To which Charlotte simply answered, "Fine."

"Here, you hungry?" Darcy tossed a box of Pop Tarts at her. "Pretty much the only thing that the store out here sells as far as junk food goes, so I buy them in bulk," she explained, grabbing two for her.

It was getting dark when they finally stopped beside a trailer on the outskirts of the tiny town.

"Go on in and throw your stuff anywhere, then come on over to our research facility," Darcy instructed, gesturing to a building next to the trailer.

Lottie dragged her bag through the small front door of the trailer. It was comfortable, but cluttered. Jane's love of science had always made her less than fussy about other, "less important" matters, such as cleanliness. With a sigh, Charlotte chucked her bag onto the couch and stuck her nose in the fridge, in search of something with more sustenance than Pop Tarts. Grabbing an apple, she walked back outside into the warm, desert air and across a small clearing to Jane's "research facility". It was, in fact, a fairly large building, made almost entirely of glass, but it looked like it had seen better days. Inside, her sister was rushing around, grabbing equipment and stuffing it into a bag as her friend Eric rooted through paperwork. Darcy was sitting on a table beside them, staring at her iPod.

Heaving in a deep breath, Lottie opened the door and walked in. No one seemed to notice her for a few minutes. Finally, she felt the need to say something herself.

"Hi," she said awkwardly.

Jane jumped and turned at the sound of her voice. Her face broke into a brilliant, if somewhat distracted smile.

"Hey!" she replied as she reached for an elaborate camera on the desk.

"So, I assume something's going on?" Lottie asked.

"Yep," Darcy replied. "We're headed out to see some storm or something."

Jane threw her an exasperated look. "Actually, it's a southern aurora," she corrected.

"Whatever," said Darcy. "All I know is I gotta drive the truck out into the middle of the desert. I hope I'm getting reimbursed for this."

Suddenly there was a stampede for the door, and Charlotte found herself crammed into the back of a van with Jane and Eric as they tampered with some storm-chasing equipment. Trying to distance herself from the confusion, Lottie let her mind wander away, leaning against the side of the van and staring absently out the rear window.

She didn't know how much time had passed – it was at least an hour – before, suddenly, she felt a nauseating dip in her stomach. Her head spun, and black spots swam in her vision. Warning bells were screaming in her brain, and the silver ring on her hand dropped in temperature, until it hissed against her warm flesh. Bolting up from her seat, she threw open the top hatch of the van and scanned the sky. Then, she saw it. It was to the north of them. A violent storm cloud was gathering, a swirling tornado filled with flashes of an unearthly blue light. Jane suddenly appeared beside Lottie, her eyes wide with wonder.

"Go!" she yelled down to Darcy, and suddenly they were barreling towards the center of the storm.

Charlotte's unease grew as they grew closer to the cloudy funnel. Loki's ring was now turning white as it was coated with a strange frost, and steam rose from her hand as the searing cold collided with her skin. The tires squealed as Darcy swerved to avoid the storm at the last minute.

Distantly, as if from a dream, Lottie heard her yell, "I am not _dying_ for six college credits!"

But it was too late. They were in the very apex of the storm. Flickering blue light and thick, dark cloud swirled around them. For a moment, they were lost in the terrible beauty of the phenomenon, before the vehicle came to an abrupt halt, and the storm suddenly evaporated. There was a hush, broken only by the sound of heavy breathing, and then Jane, Eric and Darcy all scrambled out of the vehicle and around to the back. Charlotte followed slowly, the sickening feeling of dread increasing with every step she took.

Coming upon them, she followed the beam of Eric's flashlight, and then she saw him. Something told her immediately that this blonde stranger was not human. He had that same aura of "other" around him that she felt when she was near Loki. But unlike Loki, this man made her stomach clench in unease, as distrust and repulsion instinctively took hold of her.

Somehow, she knew who he was. Somehow, she didn't need to hear him say his name. She already knew it. She already knew of this man before her. And she already hated him.

Thor.


	6. Monster

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Everything had worked out exactly as he had planned. The Frost Giants had invaded the weapons vault at the _ideal_ moment, Thor had been just as outraged as he'd thought, they'd gone to Jotunheim as planned, and now the swaggering, blond braggart had been exiled.

So Loki should have been feeling better than he was.

Instead, he was pacing along an empty corridor, his steps echoing eerily off marble and stone. Of all the places to send Thor, Midguard was the worst possible choice. Not only that, but now he was entangled – however minimally – with Charlotte and her sister. Loki wasn't sure why the thought of Thor spending time with Lottie made him want to kill something, but it did. With a growl, he slammed his fist forcefully into a marble pillar. Pausing, he stared for a moment at his hand. Memories of Jotunheim flitted through his head. Here, in the moonlight, his skin looked as it always did: smooth and pale, nearly translucent. But something strange had happened in the realm of the Frost Giants that afternoon, and Loki needed answers.

Turned abruptly, he strode along the familiar paths that lead him to the weapons vault. His mind had been churning with unspoken possibilities all day, and there was only one way that he could know the truth. And at last he arrived, and there it was in front of him, glowing with cold, icy blue power.

The Jotun Casket.

His fingers trembled as he reached slowly to grip the terrible weapon. As soon as his skin made contact with the chilled metal, he felt an intoxicating thrill of power run through him. His heart rate accelerated, beating wildly for a moment before it slowed to a slow, lethargic pace. Beginning with his fingers, his skin tingled as it slowly darkened to icy blue marble. Memories flew threw his brain at a wild rate; memories that were not his own. They were strange, and blurred, like fragments of a dream. He heard screams, saw blood splatter on the snow like wine, and felt the agony of a million deaths all in the space of a few moments.

Odin's voice shattered the vision.

"Stop!" he called.

Replacing the Casket on its stand, Loki asked, "Am I cursed?"

"No," came the reply.

Turning slowly, Loki asked the question whose answer he both needed and dreaded. "Then what am I?"

Odin looked pained as he answered, "You are my son."

The truth was slowly appearing in Loki's mind, bitter and cold.

"What more than that?" he growled. "The Casket wasn't the only thing you took from Jotunheim that day, was it?"

Odin hesitated, concern written on his brows. "No," he said at last.

He went on to speak of a Jotun child, abandoned in the temple, small and alone. The son of Laufey, king of the Frost Giants, the plan to unite the people of Jotunheim and Asgard. Betrayal and rejection stabbed Loki in the gut like a blade, but he denied the emotions and allowed anger and pain to overshadow them.

"So I'm nothing more than another stolen relic, locked up here until you might have use of me," he cried.

"You are my son," Odin replied sadly. "I wanted only to protect you from the truth."

"What? That I'm the monster that parents tell their children about at night? You know it all makes sense, now, why you favored Thor all these years," he spat bitterly, "because no matter how much you claim to _love me_, you could never have a Frost Giant sitting on the throne of Asgard."

Odin turned away, his face growing pale, as he stumbled and collapsed on the steps behind him. Loki stared at him, his chest still heaving with emotion. He reached out to touch his hand, but recoiled as the truth crashed down on him. Helpless, he called for the guards, who helped him move his father.

That night, sleep escaped Loki entirely. He paced restlessly, fighting with the emotions that threatened to drown him. He could not be weak. He would crush the pain and sorrow that made his eyes sting, made his hands tremble and his resolve falter. He would use them, honing them into a rage so perfect that his revenge would be irrevocable. But tonight, he struggled. Ripping off his shirt, he grabbed the pitcher of water on his table and threw it over his body, welcoming the chilling shock of it. Raking his hands through his hair, he slid down the wall to sit on the floor, and there, he began to cry. His tears were cold, bitter and icy. They chilled his soul and mercifully numbed his shrieking heart. He sat there through the long hours of the night, watching the moon journey through the sky, letting his mind wander far away, through layers of time and stars, to where she was.

For this one night, he allowed himself to dwell in thoughts of her, whose heart beat softly in the ring on his hand.

Charlotte.


	7. Pain

**Hey people, make sure you read Chapter Six before this one! I uploaded both this morning, so don't miss the first one! :) **

**xo**

Lottie sighed as she watched her sister stare at Thor with stars in her eyes. After they hit him with the car the night before, Darcy had tasered him, which did far more damage than getting hit with the car ever did. So, they'd rushed him off to the hospital, and admitted him. But, somehow, they'd ended up with him the next morning, after he broke out of the hospital and Jane managed to back into him in the parking lot. Now they sat in Puerto Antigua's one and only diner, as Thor gorged himself.

So far, he was living up to everything that Loki had ever said about him; arrogant, self-centered and self-focused. Lottie would have to admit that he was attractive, but not in the same way Loki was. While Loki was lean but strong, clean-shaven and refined looking, Thor looked like a lumberjack in comparison, with stringy hair and a scruffy beard. He wasn't exactly what she would have pegged as Jane's type, but her sister appeared totally smitten. Meanwhile, Thor seemed oblivious to everything except food. And coffee, apparently.

While Jane, Darcy and even Eric seemed completely fascinated with him, Lottie had managed not to speak to him. The instant hatred she had felt when she first saw him had not diminished. Thor had glanced at her several times with a questioning look, as if he could feel the chill radiating off of her, but she avoided his too-blue gaze dogmatically. She was in no mood to explain herself to an arrogant braggart.

Meanwhile, she was completely exhausted. She had woken up in the middle of the night with a terrible, unexplainable sadness pulling at her. She had longed for Loki so desperately that she felt like her heart might rip out of her chest. Tiptoeing out of Jane's cluttered trailer, she had sat alone beneath the desert sky and cried tears that she didn't understand. It had been dawn before the pain subsided and she had been able to sleep for a few hours.

"…Lottie?" Jane's voice shattered her haze of fatigue.

"What?" she replied numbly.

"I asked you if you know where the high school is. You start tomorrow, right?"

"Um. Yeah."

Thor glanced at her. "I would have taken you for older than school age," he commented.

She bristled. "I don't see how my _age_ is any of your concern," she snapped, swinging a black gaze on the Asgardian prince.

Darcy stared at her, and Jane kicked her under the table, a look of horror on her face. Thor, however, simply smiled.

Charlotte excused herself before the rest of them to wander the small town and figure out where everything was. The high school was tiny and run-down looking.

_This should be fun_, she thought.

There was a general store, a barber shop, a post office and the diner she'd just come out of. The public school sat on the other end of town, and was even smaller than the high school. Those, plus a few dozen houses on dusty side roads, made up the entirety of the town of Puerto Angitua.

She sighed and plopped down on the curb across from the high school, not particularly caring if she got dirt on her jeans. A voice startled her.

"Are you new to this town?"

She turned to see who was speaking to her. He was around her age, with wild, tousled light brown hair, tanned skin and lively blue eyes.

"Yeah, actually," she answered.

Not waiting for an invitation, he sat down beside her and followed her gaze to the high school.

"It's not as bad as it looks,' he said with a grin.

"Really?" she said. "Because it looks pretty bad."

"Yeah, I guess it does. I'm Jack, by the way."

"Charlotte," she answered. "But most people call me Lottie."

"So where'd you move here from?" he asked, leaning back and squinting into the sunlight.

She sighed. "New York."

"Wow. So why in the world would you come to Puerto Antigua?"

"My father got a new job, so he sent me out here to stay with my sister."

"Well that's…tough," he replied.

"How about you? What are you doing out here?"

He laughed. "I was born here. We moved to California for a while, but we came back out here three years ago. My parents are stuck on this place."

She stared at him with arched eyebrows, and he grinned. "Don't ask me why," he said.

"So, do you want a grand tour?" he asked teasingly.

"Thanks, but I think I've already seen everything there is to see," she replied with a smile.

"I bet you haven't seen the playground."

She gave him a quizzical look, but he was already on his feet.

"Come on," he said, reaching to help her up.

The instant her skin touched his, a jolt like an electric shock went through her, and she jerked her hand back like she'd been bitten. An eerie hum sounded in her brain, and Loki's ring skyrocketed in temperature so that it nearly burned her finger.

Jack stared down at her like she'd lost her mind. She jumped to her feet and backed away from him.

"I'm sorry," she said. "But I can't right now. Another time."

He looked at her uncertainly for a moment more, then grinned a lopsided grin. "Yeah, sure."

She turned and walked away, trying not to look like she was fleeing, but feeling a terrible need to escape. A cold breeze was at her back, pushing her, but the tops of the trees were still. A sound stopped her in her tracks. There, carried on the chilly breeze, was the sound of her voice being whispered, floating through layers of the universe and down the desert street to reach her.

_Lottie._

She knew his voice. She dreamed about it every night. She knew every contour of his face, every beloved line of his shoulders. She knew the depths of his emerald eyes and the magnitude of his pain. She knew his voice.

Loki.


	8. Darkness

**Dear readers! I'm on a roll today! I have uploaded chapters 6, 7 & 8 all today! So make sure you read 6 & 7 before this one! **

**_M.C. Denalde_****! I'm worried for Jack's life, too! Haha. Loki is who Loki is, so I don't know if I'll be able to talk him into being merciful. :/ I'll do my best….**

**And by the way everyone: at the bottom of this page is a magical empty box. In that magical empty box you can write reviews! And I find reviews extremely exciting. So, please tell me what you think of the story! Cheers to everyone who has already reviewed! Please don't stop! **

**Hugs! **

**xo**

_Lottie was floating, falling, being carried on strange currents of air that pulled her toward an unknown destination. Gently, like a small child, she was set down on her feet, on a soft surface. Gradually, the currents of wind died away, until she was surrounded by a silence so perfect and so complete that she feared to breath. Slowly, slowly, afraid to break the spell, she opened her eyes. Around her, the world was an eerie white. Thick snow drifted slowly down from a dark, mournful sky. She was standing on the edge of a cliff, her toes mere inches from the edge, and beyond it she could see only a deepening swirl of winter descending into nothing. She was barefoot, dressed only in a thin black garment which reached mid-thigh. Her arms and legs were bare, and her hair fell in long, thick waves down her back. She vaguely wondered why it had darkened to the color of onyx. A glance at her skin told her that it had blanched to the color of the snow falling around her. She was strange, she was unearthly, and yet, she was powerful. The life surging through her veins was intoxicating. Around her, the cold, stony surroundings loomed darkly in the veil of winter. She should be cold, but all she felt was a numbing pleasure. Behind her, she felt a presence, colder than the air surrounding her. _

_"What do you see?" said a whisper in her ear. _

_"I see darkness, and an endless fall," she answered._

_"Are you afraid?" the voice asked again, as its owner's lips brushed against her throat, sending a chill up her spine. _

_She struggled to breathe before she answered. "No," she replied breathlessly. _

_"Look at me." _

_The voice was now low and commanding. She had no choice. She turned. _

_She was lost. She was found. She was broken. She was whole. She was empty. She was complete. _

_There was no more ground beneath her feet. She plunged, through layers of frigid air and down into a deeper darkness than any that she had known before. _

_He had called her. He was beckoning to her. She had no choice._

_And so she would go. _

"Lottie!"

Charlotte bolted up in her bed, trembling, with a sheen of sweat making her shirt stick to her skin. Beside her, Jane's face came into focus, looking concerned.

"Are you okay?"

Lottie struggled for breath. "Yeah. Yeah sure, I'm fine."

Jane gave her another questioning glance before grabbing her keys off the table.

"I'm headed out," she said. "You better get up. Your first class is in an hour."

Groaning, Lottie grabbed a pillow and buried her face in it. Distantly, she heard the door close behind her sister. Her dream replayed over and over again in her mind. It had been so entirely…real. She moaned and smacked herself in the head.

_Get a grip, Charlotte. You're delusional. You need to watch fewer movies._

Hauling herself out of bed, she shuffled into the tiny bathroom and ran a shower as hot as she could bear. Standing under the steaming spray, she scrubbed the sweat off her skin, trying to make some sense of her twisted thoughts.

Half an hour later, she felt a bit better, with clean hair and skin and fresh clothes. She found some cinnamon buns in the fridge and threw one in the microwave while she tried to organize her part of the trailer (with very little success). Munching on her breakfast, she grabbed her books, stuffed them in her backpack and headed out the door.

The day was just as brutal as she'd thought, but Jack came over and sat with her at lunch, which made it bearable. She had to admit he was a really nice guy, funny too, and OK, he was attractive. By the end of the day she had forgotten entirely about her dream.

The trailer was deserted when she got in that evening, which seemed odd to Lottie. Brushing it aside, she decided to take advantage of the solitude. She found some awesome frozen dinners in the freezer, and stuck one in the oven to heat up while she flipped through Jane's movie collection. Most of them were definitely _not_ up Charlotte's alley, but a few were bearable. She settled on "Pearl Harbour", deciding she could put up with a little cheesiness for once.

The movie was almost done and it was late by the time she heard a vehicle pull up beside the trailer. Putting the film on pause, she watched as her sister rushed from the vehicle into the trailer, slamming the door behind her and breathing heavily.

"You running from the law?" Lottie asked with a grin.

Jane jumped about a foot at the sound of her voice. "Don't do that!" she yelled.

"Gosh, sorry. Seriously, though. What happened?"

"I…. I drove Thor out to the crater site today."

"The _what_ site?"

"The crater site. It's some big meteor thing, I guess, but he was going on and on about how his hammer was there. By the time we got there, some other people had built some technological city around it. I don't know who they are, but I'm pretty sure it's the same idiots who took my stuff this afternoon-"

"Wait. What?" Lottie cut her off, her mind spinning as it tried to keep up with her sister's frenetic pace.

"Some black coat scientific group. They came here this afternoon and _emptied_ my research building. They took absolutely everything."

"Do you know why?"

"Something about it being possibly classified information. Actually, no. I don't know."

Lottie nodded slowly, "Ooookay. So. The crater site?"

"Oh yeah! Well, when we got there, he told me he was going to go get his hammer and I should wait in the car. And then he started smashing things – well, people – and set off _all_ of their alarm systems. I waited as long as I could, but I was too close. I had to leave. And that's when the creepy part happened. I was on a rise, overlooking the crater site, and as I got in the car, I looked back, and on the other side of the crater there was a man, just standing there. It was pouring rain, and it was pitch black, but somehow I saw him nevertheless. I've never seen anything that terrified me so much. I can't explain it."

Lottie's heart accelerated. "What did he look like?" she asked urgently.

Jane looked at her strangely. "Well…it was dark. I'm not sure. But he had long hair. I think it was black. I couldn't make out his features."

Charlotte's ring was pulsing against her hand. _It was him_, she thought. She clamped a mental lid on her confusing emotions and tried to appear calm.

"So you left Thor out there?"

"I had to!" Jane exclaimed. "Or else I would have been arrested or something!"

"Yeah, of course," Lottie agreed. She yawned, genuinely exhausted. "I'm just finishing Pearl Harbour. Want to join?"

Lottie's mind was far away from the rest of the film. It was fifty miles away. It was standing on the edge of the crater. With him.

Loki.


	9. Addiction

**_M. _****, I was jealous of the cinnamon bun too. I've been longing for one ever since Lottie had hers. -_- Thanks for all of your awesome reviews! They mean a lot to me! J**

**_Forbidden Moons_****, you're amazing! Your support helps keep this story rolling. J Keep it up girl! **

**_TEALHAIREDIDIOT_****, I'm so glad you like the story! I can't take any credit, it was all Loki's idea. ;) Thanks for reviewing! I appreciate it! **

* * *

To say that Loki was in a bad mood would be an understatement. Mjolnir was here, in Midguard, within his grasp, but by some curse of the gods he couldn't claim its power. His one comfort was that his brother couldn't, either.

_No, not your brother_, he told himself, still adjusting to the truth. The bitter reality of who he was was slowly sinking into his being, but the sting was still poignant.

_A monster_, he thought to himself wryly. _Well, then, I guess I'll just have to live up to that title. _

Odin had not recovered from his collapse in the weapons vault. He had sunk deeper than ever before into the sickness known as the Odinsleep. During this time he was in a state of bodily hibernation, while it was said that his mind was still active.

Due to Odin's illness, and Thor's oh-so inconvenient absence, Loki had taken up the seat of King in Asgard. The seat of power that he had longed for so long was at last within his grasp. All that was left to be done was to ensure that nothing would threaten his Kingship.

The Warriors Three and Sif had already paid him a visit, begging for Thor's return. He had crushed their pleas with a few words that did little to obscure the threat beneath them. The Warriors Three had acquiesced quickly; Sif, however, had to be practically dragged away while she glared at him. Foolish girl. She didn't know who she was angering. She would do well to learn some respect.

Frigga, Odin's wife, was too overcome by grief and care for her husband to think about much beyond his sick room.

The only door left yet to close was that of Thor himself. And that was why Loki found himself standing on the edge of a crater in the New Mexico desert, one dark, rainy night. He had watched Charlotte's sister Jane drive Thor out to the site earlier that evening. He had watched her leave when the alarms went off, had watched Thor being taken into custody, and had bided his time until the right moment to speak to him. A few honeyed lies had gone down Thor's throat easily, and bought Loki more time.

His mind turned back to the woman, this Jane. She was a fool to help Thor. Her ignorance would be her undoing. She was pretty, but different from Lottie. They both had auburn hair and brown eyes, but Lottie stood several inches taller, and her gaze was darker, her features colder and more remote. In Jane's face was youthful innocence and naivety; but Lottie, though she was younger, carried burdens betrayed by the bottomless void in her eyes. It was that pain, that chilled soul, that first brought him to her room when she was little. He understood her as no one else could. His compassion for her then had led to his downfall now. She was dangerous. He was far too dependent on her. He needed her in a way that he had never needed anyone or anything before.

Turning, he walked slowly along the crater's edge, veiled by a spell from the watchful eyes of the guards below. Closing his eyes, he let the rain beat against his skin, cooling his rage, frustration and desire. He was cold. He was untouchable. His heart was iron. Nothing could thaw the impenetrable wall of ice that years of bitterness had erected around his heart.

At least, that's what he told himself.

But in the next moment, against his better judgement, he knew that he had to see her.

His unhealthy addiction.

Lottie.


	10. Desire

**Second chapter of the day, woo hoo! Don't miss Chapter 9, also uploaded today! Read it first! **

**xo**

* * *

A familiar voice drew Lottie out of a deep sleep that night. She was lost in the endless nothingness of a sleep without dreams, when a whisper threaded its way into her consciousness.

_Lottie_.

Instantly, she was awake. Her ring was buzzing with electricity, and glowed with a pale light. Barely aware that she was only dressed in an oversized, black T-shirt that barely reached mid-thigh, she slipped out of bed, shivering when her feet touched the cold floor. Silently, she made her way out the door and cautiously closed it behind her. Outside, the rain had stopped, and the branches of the few trees that stood near the trailer glimmered with the light of a thousand jewels as moonlight reflected off the raindrops clinging to them. There was a nearly holy hush in the air. Above, the moon peered out from behind a cloud cover, its pale, ghostly light drifting across the desolate landscape. Lottie took it all in in a glance, before her gaze was fixed on _him_.

His silhouette was black, and glowed around the edges with moonlight, an eerie spectre come to earth from a distant world. His back was to her, and he stood on a distant rise, hands clasped behind his back. She walked quietly toward him. He turned when she was halfway there, watching her silently with a searching gaze.

_What can he want with me?_ She wondered. She had asked herself that question thousands of times in the last eight years. There he stood, a dark, powerful god from another world, watching her, waiting for her.

She reached him, her heart hammering against her ribs in a strange and delicious anticipation. She looked up at him, but for the first time ever, she couldn't hold his gaze. She dropped her eyes to the ground, waiting for him to speak, to move, to do something other than stand there watching her with those cat-like eyes. There was something predatory in his look. Something she'd never seen in him before.

"Look at me," he finally said.

Biting her lip, she slowly raised her head and met his eyes. They were definitely on different ground tonight. Something had shifted in their relationship, and both of them felt it.

Therefore, he surprised her when he said, "There's danger coming. You will need to know things that I can teach you." He circled to stand behind her, continuing to speak. "I've told you bits of the truth, but you don't know all of it." His fingers brushed her hand and a thrill ran through her. "The ring I gave you when you were younger is not just a piece of jewelry, as you've probably noticed. It has powers that make you stronger than you know. It binds you to me, allowing us to share thoughts, emotions, dreams."

Her dream of the night before flew threw her mind, and a shudder than through her. His nearness was not helping her concentration. As if sensing that, he stepped away before continuing.

"It also gives you my powers. You must learn how to use them."

She stared at him blankly, trying to process that information. Suddenly he appearance seemed to shift, to blur slightly, and she was staring at her sister.

"Jane?" she asked incredulously.

Jane smiled at her, walking forward until she stood mere inches from Charlotte.

"Hello Lottie," she whispered, before she blurred again and Loki was standing in front of her. He smiled at her shocked expression. Before she could recover, he had morphed again, and now Thor stood in front of her, in all of his blond, muscly glory. He stepped forward so that he was brushing against her, bending toward her so that their lips were mere centimeters apart.

"Charlotte," he breathed, his blue eyes searching hers.

She stepped away, uncertain what to think of the situation. Suddenly Loki was back, and there was a grin on his face.

"I see you have better taste than your sister," he purred.

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I guess so."

His grin was suddenly gone, replaced again by that predatory stare than made her heart race. She should be scared. To hell with that, she should be _running_, but instead she stood rooted to the spot as he walked slowly toward her, the intensity in his eyes awakening some strange yearning inside of her. It was the same longing that she saw reflected in him, an emotion she never expected to see on his face. She knew its name. Desire. He stopped a mere breath away from her, and her world stopped spinning as his icy fingers trailed along her jawline. His pupils were dilated, his breathing heavy, and his glance slid down to her lips as a shudder ran through her.

He moved away abruptly, and the magic shattered. The breeze started blowing again, the world spun on its axis, and Lottie's breathing improved notably.

He spent the next few hours teaching her things that she had thought only existed in books. She watched his pale, powerful hands as they wove things out of nothing; she watched the sensuous curve of his lips as they spoke spells; she watched the chiseled lines of his body as he transformed himself into fantastic creatures. She discovered abilities within herself that she didn't know existed, a raging inferno of raw power that morphed her into more than just a small mortal girl.

It was strange, it was glorious, and it was all hers, but only because of him. Her teacher, her friend, her liberator and the captor of her mind.

The one creature for whom her whole being raged with longing.

Loki.


	11. Illusion

**Ahhhhhhh all you reviewers make me so happy. :') **

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* * *

Charlotte was late the next morning. She slept through her alarm, and her body refused to cooperate at all until nine o'clock, which wasn't good since that was exactly when her first class began. She yanked on some clothes, brushed her teeth and ran a comb through her hair before hauling herself out the door. She recoiled at the sight in front of her.

Her sister, Jane, was asleep in a plastic beach chair beside the smoking remains of a campfire. Beside her, reclining in his own chair and smiling like he owned the world, was Thor.

"What the heck?" she blurted before she could stop herself.

Thor merely raised his eyebrows at her. "Is there a problem, Miss Foster?"

"I thought Jane left you at some crater sight yesterday."

"She did," he answered, "but she sent Eric to – what do you call it, bail?"

"Bail you out," she muttered.

"Yes," he replied with another smile. "He and I may have indulged in a few too many drinks following that, and we came in late. Jane didn't want to wake you, you seemed so deeply asleep."

"What time did you get in?" she asked slowly.

"I'm not sure, exactly. It was some time very shortly after midnight."

"And…I was there?" she asked. "Asleep?"

"Why yes," he answered. "We were surprised that you didn't wake up when we came in."

A slow smile formed on Lottie's face. _Cunning devil_, she thought to herself. _More illusions_.

"Yeah, well, I've always been a deep sleeper."

Thor looked at her curiously. She grew uncomfortable under his scrutiny. Glancing at her watch, she muttered something about being late and bolted toward the high school.

She walked into her English class nearly half an hour late. The teacher, Miss Morgan, was a prim, sour-faced lady who had disliked Lottie from the beginning of her attendance. Jack threw Charlotte a compassionate glance from the front of the room, which she returned with a cheeky grin. Today, she didn't care about school, and annoying teachers.

As expected, she was reprimanded and given a twenty-minute detention, but then again, what would Lottie's school day be _without_ a detention?

She sailed through her classes, feet off the ground, head in the clouds, mind worlds away. She jumped when Jack slid in beside her at lunch.

"So," he said, "someone looks like they swallowed the canary. What did you do, book a ticket back to New York?"

She grinned at him. "Nope."

"Well what, then? You seeing some guy?"

She nearly choked on her water. Some _guy_? "Nope," she answered breezily.

Technically, it was true, considering he wasn't even human.

_Come on, Lottie, get a grip. You're not _seeing_ him. This is _Loki_ you're thinking about here, not some cute guy in one of your classes. _

A deeper part of her whispered, _This is dangerous. _

Swatting the thought aside, she flipped her dark braid over her shoulder and stood up, tray in hand.

"So, I take it you're not going to tell me," Jack said to her back.

"Tell you what?"

"Why you're acting like a different person today."

She gazed at him thoughtfully for a moment. "I don't know myself, Jack. I think, maybe, I wasn't even alive before today."

He stared at her like she'd lost her mind, but she walked away pondering the truth of those words. What she had felt last night, it truly was a feeling of pure, raw, unfiltered _life_.

Later on that afternoon, sitting in detention, that feeling of life was waning seriously. Lottie watched the second hand on the clock move at an incredibly sluggish pace toward the moment of her freedom. Biting back frustration, a sudden thought came to her.

Sitting perfectly still, she closed her eyes and focused all of her energy into her image. She pictured herself as a bystander, standing by the door looking at her sitting in the chair. A faint hum began to build in her mind, growing sharper and more intense until it was a nearly painful whine, before it evened out to a steady volume. Slowly, eyes still closed, she shifted and stood out of the chair. She glanced down and began to walk to the back of the room, stepping careful and quietly. Reaching the door, she turned and looked back. There, sitting in the chair she had just been occupying, was a perfect replica of her, head bent studiously over a book spread on the desk.

Still holding her breath, she slipped out the door and closed it behind her. The instant it clicked shut, she let out a long breath and grinned widely. A sudden waft of cool air ruffled her hair, and she could have sworn that she heard a distant laugh carried on the currents of breeze. Checking her watch, she approximated that she had ten minutes before she had to be back in the chair that her illusion currently occupied.

Wandering through the halls, it made her smile every time someone passed by her, unseeing. She was nothing to them, just a gust of air. She had joined the wraiths; become one with the shadow world. And she found that she rather liked it.

She was back in the detention room none too early. She slipped into the chair and muttered the word to break the spell a mere two minutes before she was released.

As she walked out the doors, she felt a sense of power that was new to her. All her life, she'd been a victim; the one to take all the mockery, abuse and scorn that the world could throw at her. But now, how the tables were reversed! She would not be thrown around or treated lightly any longer. Oh, no. She now had the ability to make any who would hurt her bitterly regret their mistake. She would make them pay, every last one of them. Her scars would perfect her revenge. Blackness was growing in her soul, a blackness of pain and neglect, fed by this new life that had intoxicated her. A life that even now made her blood stir and rage with fire, a fire that would consume.

Oh yes, fires would be kindled.

And he would stand beside her and watch them burn.

Loki.


	12. Sundown

**Alright people! Time for you to tell me what I should do! Should the story end with the conclusion of Thor, or should it continue through Avengers? Tell me what you think in your reviews! Your opinions will determine whether the next chapter wraps things up or springboards into Avengers content! **

**Hugs to everybody who has reviewed, and who make writing this so much more fun! **

**xo**

* * *

Lottie simply sighed when she saw the four people dressed in battle armour standing in the road with Jane, Thor, Darcy and Eric. Wonderful. More idiots.

"Lottie!" Jane called when she saw her.

She walked over to them.

"Charlotte Foster," said Thor, "may I present Lady Sif and—"

"The Warriors Three," Lottie finished.

Jane stared at her. "How'd you know that?" she asked.

"We covered Norse mythology in one of my history courses," Lottie lied smoothly.

She turned back to their new guests, who were speaking urgently with Thor.

Frowning, he said, "I just don't understand why Loki would have told me what he did."

"Loki?" Darcy asked. "Who's Loki?"

"My brother," Thor replied offhandedly.

"In any case," Sif was saying, "you must return, now, before he has a chance to do any more harm than he already has."

At that moment there was a sudden gust of frigid air, the winds picked up, and sudden clouds blocked the sun. A familiar, flickering funnel cloud dropped from the darkened sky, at the end of the street where it blended with pure desert. Out of the cloud dropped a large, dark form, and then the storm disappeared again.

Charlotte felt her eyes widen at the monstrosity that now walked toward them with slow steps, shaking the very ground. It was the form of a man, but much larger, with a fiery void for a face and a body of silver metal. A Destroyer. As she watched, it decimated several vehicles and building with a blast of fiery rage. Nearly instantly, Thor, Jane, Eric and Darcy were running, hurrying people off the street and into buildings, while Sif and the Warriors Three went out to face the metal monster. Lottie stood rooted to place, heart pounding. It reached her before the Asgardian warriors could engage it. For a long moment, it loomed over her, its flickering orange face turned town to gaze at her. She returned the stare, unable to move, unable to breathe. Distantly, she heard Jane screaming her name.

And then, Sif and the Warriors Three were there, hollering battle cries. With a final glance at Lottie, the Destroyer turned its back on her and walked toward where its opponents waited, and Lottie regained the use of her limbs, turning to walk to the curb. That was when she saw Thor staring at her, a sudden look of comprehension on his face, combined with something akin to repulsion. She met his eyes with her dark ones, and slowly grinned a black grin, brushing by him to sit down on the tailgate of a pickup truck parked by the curb and watch the fun.

As she'd expected, Sif and the Three failed miserably. Just when it seemed like it was all over, she turned in unison with everyone else on the street, to see a lone man walking slowly down the decimated road with sure steps to meet the giant. Thor.

_You fool_, she thought.

They met halfway down the street. Lottie stood, her heart beating in expectancy. This was it, the moment of revenge; the moment of triumph. Stripped of his powers, the god of thunder now seemed to shrink in the shadow of the monster before him; in the shadow of the better brother.

Thor said something to him, quietly, and smiled when the flames died in the creatures face, and it silently turned as if to leave. He didn't see the powerful arm coming at him, didn't feel the chilling breeze as the metal hand swung toward him; all he felt was the crushing pain of a thousand deaths as the cold iron struck him with enough force to send him flying. He landed hard on his back, a good fifty feet up the road. Only then did the Destroyer truly turn to leave.

Lottie expected to feel…something. Something other than this terrible, numb, _nothingness_. No relief, no satisfaction, no maniacal glee. Just a distant hum in the region of her heart. Her sister, on the other hand, ran to Thor with tears raining down her face, smudging her makeup, and knelt beside his prone figure.

Suddenly finding the entire scene unpalatable, Charlotte turned and began to make her way away from the wreckage. The sound of rushing wind stopped her. She turned at the exact same moment as Loki's killing machine, to see Thor standing in a brilliant shaft of light, right arm upstretched. The light faded and there he stood, clothed in silver and red armour, holding a large hammer – presumably Mjolnir - with….

A cape? _Really?_ Lottie asked herself.

As usual, Jane was nearly hyperventilating at the very sight of him, and Sif and the Warriors Three were grinning like lunatics.

Then, Thor turned back to the Destroyer.

Their battle was fierce and brief. Charlotte watched in growing fury as Thor emerged from the fray with a smug expression on his face, while the now-empty shell of the metal beast hit the dusty street with a resounding crash.

She was in no humor to see anything else, but she didn't have much of a choice. Jane, Eric and Darcy were now trailing Thor and his friends to the same spot at the end of the street where the Destroyer had first appeared. Forcing a calm expression onto her face, she followed. Reaching the spot, she stared in fascination at the markings that had appeared in a ring around the location. She distantly remembered them from the night that Thor had arrived, but now she knew better how to appreciate them. These were runes, powerful spells that contained enough magic to build or destroy empires. She didn't know how she was suddenly aware of it, but a thrill ran through her at the sight of them. If one could learn these spells….

Her musings were cut short when her saw her sister and Thor engaged in a very intense-looking discussion out of the corner of her eye. She sighed as they kissed passionately, her stomach reeling slightly, her breakfast threatening a re-appearance.

Finally, it was over, and the four Asgardians stepped into the circle formed by the runes.

"Heimdall?" Thor called. "Heimdall, open the Byfrost."

They were answered by silence from the heavens.

"Heimdall, if you can hear me, we need you now."

There was a sudden, blinding flash of blue light that descended from the sky, and in a moment Sif, the Warriors Three, and Thor were gone, along with the shaft of light, and the only sound was the wind blowing over the New Mexico desert. Above them, storm clouds continued to rage and flicker.

"He's coming back," Jane said. "He said he wouldn't be gone long."

"Sure," Lottie replied wryly.

She didn't know how long they stood there. Minutes, hours? The time seemed to drag by, as endless as an eternity. Then, just as sundown stained the sky a brilliant crimson, the clouds above them dissipated, and they were left facing all the splendor of the sunset.

"It's gone," Jane whispered.

In that moment, a sudden agony gripped Lottie, an emotional and mental pain so strong that she felt physically ill. She felt the sensation of letting go, of falling, and stars flickered in front of her eyes. She was aware of Loki's ring growing unnaturally cold against her skin, before everything faded out to black.

And in that blackness, there was no light, no friendly glow of a watching moon.

There was only nothingness, and for the first time in her life, she couldn't feel his presence.

The places in her mind and her heart that belonged to him were empty. He was gone.

Loki.


	13. Memory

**All right, all right, you dear, wonderful readers. You have convinced me. I shall continue with Avengers content. A few of you gave me some wonderful ideas, too. J THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed. And Loki thanks you as well. ;) **

**Shoutouts: Well, there are too many to say individually (isn't that a wonderful problem to have!). Every single one of you who have written reviews has brought a smile to my face! Please don't stop! **

**And by the way, don't let the resolution of this chapter worry you. I promise, wonderfulness is on the way! **

**Hugs to all of you! Xo **

* * *

Long days, weeks, and finally months dragged by. For the first time since she was ten years old, Lottie felt genuinely alone. A yawning emptiness had engulfed her. Jane had stopped asking her questions, realizing that she would not receive any answers.

June came, and with it, the end of school. Charlotte had begun to believe that Loki wasn't coming back. Her ring was cold, lifeless, just a band of metal against her skin.

Jack had asked her to go to the Graduation dance with him. She hesitated to give him an answer, a stubborn portion of heart and mind rebelling at the thought. But, finally, she weakened, and allowed him to take her. She had to admit to having a good time. And Jack? Well, she was starting to wonder whether he really saw her as a mere friend.

He walked her back to Jane's trailer late that night, the starlight reflecting in the azure depths of his eyes.

"Night, Jack," she said, when they reached the trailer. "Thanks for taking me."

She smiled up at him.

He gently brushed a loose tendril of hair off her face, before he leaned in and totally shocked her by pressing his lips to hers. For a long moment, she simply stood there, surprise and some other, unidentifiable emotion not allowing her to respond. But as his arms circled her body, pressing her against him, she abandoned all her reserves and kissed him back, marveling in the tender warmth of his mouth, in the steady beat of his heart against her body, in the softness of his hair beneath her fingertips. They broke apart at last, Lottie's hands sliding down his shoulders and arms, their foreheads leaning against each other.

Jack grinned at her. "Well," he said, "that went better than I expected."

She smiled back, but her smile faded as a terrible chill ran through her, and a feeling of nausea.

"I…I have to go," she said, pulling out of his arms abruptly, turning and walking back to the trailer. Guilt stabbed at her, but her feeling of illness was greater. She entered the trailer without a look back, rushing to the bathroom and locking the door behind her. She retched into the toilet, her body trembling with the force of her sickness, before she slid down the wall and collapsed, huddled on the floor.

_What is wrong with you, Lottie? A sweet, funny, attractive boy kisses you and it makes you puke? That's pathetic_.

But her stomach still roiled at the memory of it. A tear slid down her cold, pale cheek. No matter what happened, she was always alone. Loki was gone, but now she was cursed to never recover from his memory, for she had very little doubt that her reaction involved him. Every moment that Jack had held her, touched her, kissed her, all she had seen was emerald eyes, raven hair, and skin the color of moonlight.

_Damn_.

He wasn't even a mortal. He was a freaking alien. He was a coldblooded, cold-hearted, spiteful monster. And she loved him.

The sudden realization made her bolt up. Her stomach reeled at the sudden motion, but she no longer cared.

_I _love_ him? Great. That's just what I needed._

She looked down at her hand, where his ring gleamed against her flesh. Memories of his words floated through his mind. He had promised to be there for her. He had promised to watch over her.

_Bloody liar_.

With a growl, she yanked the ring off her finger.

That night, her dreams were troubled. Voices whispered in her mind, voices speaking out of the shadows, shapes and shades that she couldn't define.

_'He will lead the Chitauri…he is ready to rule.' _

_'The world will be his. The universe will be ours.' _

_'What about the girl?' _

_'She lacks conviction. She lacks heart. She doubts him.'_

_'Without her, he will be ours.' _

A whispering, cackling laughter ended the dream violently as Charlotte bolted up in bed.

She had to leave. She would go mad in this place, trapped in the desert, alone with her memories and her shattering sanity. Glancing over at the clock, she saw that it was three o'clock in the morning. She reached under the couch and pulled out her laptop, and started a search for last-minute plane tickets to New York.

It was time to put this chapter of her life behind her.

To move on.

Away from him. Away from his memory. Away from her feelings for him.

Away from Loki.


	14. Fury

**And here it is, folks, Chapter 13 for your reading pleasure! The song lyrics quoted are from Jeffery Gaines' "A Dark Love Song". **

**Please note, from this point on the story will be earning its T rating. Be ye warned!**

**_Forbidden Moons_****, thank you for your suggestion! I'd already given some thought to the mortality issue. I'm not exactly what you'd call a happy-ending sort of gal, but I think I've arrived at an idea that you will like! It's sort of…bittersweet. You'll see. ;) I think that'll still be quite a ways off, though. And don't worry. She doesn't really doubt him. Her mind does, maybe, but her heart doesn't, and that's what counts. :D Please keep reviewing! You're the best!**

**_M.C. Denalde_****, I know, isn't it ever so convenient? Hee hee! Splendid things are on the way. **

**_TEALHAIREDIDIOT, _****you don't have to stay on the edge of your seat! Behold, Chapter 13 is here! :D Please keep reviewing! It means a lot!**

**_Mrs. WaylandOdinsonBlack,_**** I can't wait either. I keep forcing myself to write the in-between parts, because all I want to write is Loki/Lottie wonderfulness! But there's some coming. :D **

**Enjoy! And please, PLEASE, keep reviewing! I love knowing what you're thinking about the story!**

**Xo**

* * *

The engines hummed softly as the jet began its descent into New York's John F. Kennedy airport. Lottie was lost to the world, headphones on and drifting. She wasn't really listening to the music, feasting her eyes instead on the cityscape spread beneath her, but suddenly the singer's words broke through to her.

'And though you bring me pain and sorrow

I'll still be here tomorrow

Seems I'm trapped I can't break free

Without you who would I be?

I've rendered myself powerless

Is my need my cowardice?'

She ripped the headphones off her head and stuffed them in her backpack.

_Get over it, Charlotte. Any time now._

The remainder of the flight went smoothly, and Lottie was through customs and had collected her baggage in short order. Exiting the airport, she fished her cellphone out of her bag and dialed a local taxi service to pick her up and take her to her house. If it still _was_ her house. She hadn't heard anything from her father since she'd gone away, almost six months before. She'd emailed and texted him to let him know she was coming, but hadn't received a reply. It was typical. Her father never changed. He was as unmovable as an iron wall.

The taxi was there in good time, and soon she was standing on the curb in front of her old home. Emotions constricted her chest as she walked up the pathway to the door. She put down her bags and hesitated before she knocked. There was a long pause, before the door opened, and there stood her father, eyes bloodshot, a half-empty bottle clutched in his fist.

She sighed internally. _I should have known_.

He wasn't expecting her. Apparently he was too inebriated to even look at his computer or his phone. He stumbled ahead of her into the kitchen, where he lowered himself unsteadily into a chair.

"So," he slurred, "did you miss me?"

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. Was he being sarcastic?

Not wanting to risk it, she replied, "Of course, Daddy."

"How's your sister?"

"She's fine, Daddy. Just fine."

"'Course she is," he said. "She was always a good girl."

Lottie grabbed her bags and hauled them upstairs to her room, not caring to hear anything else. Inside, everything was exactly as she'd left it. Her eyes lit on the scene by her table and she doubled over as though she'd been punched in the stomach, gripping the bed post for support. The fragments of the glass were still lying strewn about on the carpet, and the red trails of juice on the wall had permanently stained. Turning her back on the image, she began to slowly and methodically unpack her things, organizing her mind along with her clothing.

Her task finished, she pulled out a book and curled up on her bed, indulging in a few hours of sweet escape from reality. It was dusk by the time she had finally had collected herself enough to go down and face her father again. She tossed the book onto her bedside table, and slid off the bed. As she did, there was a clinking sound of something hitting the floor. Glancing down to see what it was, she bit her lip as her eyes lit on Loki's ring. She'd forgotten that she had stuffed it in her bag when she'd packed the night before. It must have fallen out onto the bed when she put her things away.

_Idiot_, she thought. _You should have left it in the desert_.

For a long time, she stared at it, fighting an internal war. Memories flew through her mind at the speed of light; memories of starlight visits, of stolen glances, of magic under the desert moon. She had never accepted that he wasn't coming back. Her mind told her he was gone for good, but her heart still rebelled, holding onto him stubbornly. And so it was her heart that moved her hand to reach for the ring and replace it on her finger, not her mind. The feel of the cool metal against her skin was a sweet relief. She hadn't realized how naked she had felt without it. The power and emotions that used to be connected to it were gone. The heart that had beaten through its silver walls was silent, but the memories it carried were immortal.

With a small smile, she stood and walked down the stairs to where her father still sat at the kitchen table, eyes unseeingly fixed on the wall in front of him. An unusual anger took hold of Lottie as she looked at him sitting there.

_Useless fool_, she thought bitterly, surprising herself. Choking back a comment that was sure to earn her a beating, she moved past him into the small kitchen.

"Do you want dinner, Daddy?" she asked.

There was silence from the adjoining room. Biting back her irritation, Charlotte walked to the doorway.

"Father."

He slowly turned bleary, bloodshot eyes toward her.

"What?" he slurred.

"I asked you if you want something to eat."

He shook his head mutely, reaching for his bottle of whiskey and taking a long swig. A strange fury moved Charlotte forward, barely aware of what she was doing, as she snatched the bottle out of his hand and hurled it against the wall.

That got his attention in a hurry.

"What the hell?" he roared.

"Now will you listen to me?" she asked in a level tone.

"You disrespect, ungrateful little brat! It's time you were taught a lesson," he snarled as he reached for her.

The alcohol in his blood made him slow, and Lottie jumped out of his reach.

"You can call me whatever you like. If I am ungrateful, it's because I have _nothing_ to be grateful to you for." There was a nasty bite in Lottie's voice, an edge which seemed to surprise her father as much as it surprised her. She wasn't finished yet, though. No, she was just starting. "Ever since I can remember, you've lazed around in here, totally drunk, never paying any attention to me, or to anything other than yourself. I'm nothing but a convenient housekeeper and cook. Beyond that, I'm a burden to you. Jane was always your little pet, wasn't she? I was the troublesome one, the stupid one, who didn't do well in school and wasn't happy to sit around, polish your boots and comply with all of your idiotic mood swings and drinking binges. So I was the one to bear the brunt of your drunken rages. But now I'm warning you, Daddy. If you _ever_ hit me again, you will regret it. I promise you that."

She was breathing heavily, the rage inside of her growing like a caged beast. Her father had overcome his shock and was looking more furious than she had ever seen him in her life. With a roar, he stood, toppling his chair, and came toward her. His eyes were wide, face red and the veins in his temples were bulging. He grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved her against the wall.

"You should just be glad that your mother isn't here to see you now," he yelled, his poisonous breath washing over Lottie's face and nearly choking her. His fingers dug into her arms. She could feel his uncut nails slice through her skin, and hot blood began to soak through her shirt, but the fury raging in her soul numbed the pain.

"No, father," she said quietly. "_You_ should be glad she can't see _you_."

At that, he slapped her, hard, snapping her head to the side. The blood on his hand from her arm splattered across her face. Charlotte was vaguely aware of a burning sensation in her right hand, but she didn't have time to analyze as her father jabbed his fist into her stomach, knocking the air out of her.

She would take no more. She began to struggle violently, utilizing a strength she didn't know she possessed. She brought her knee up, hard, into his abdomen, and he wheezed as he stumbled back, shocked.

There was a sudden, blinding flash of ethereal blue light, that filled the room with its glow, and threw Lottie back up against the wall, and then silence reined. Stunned, she glanced at her right hand, which she had thrown out toward her father in self-defence. Loki's ring was smoking, and a strange hissing sound emanated from it. The silver band was still glowing with the blue light, sparks flying off of it. Charlotte's mind was spinning.

_It's true. He didn't lie. He's still watching over me. He's still out there, somewhere. He didn't lie. He didn't lie. _

A slow, hot tear ran down Lottie's face, followed by another, and another, until they soaked her face and dripped off her chin. The sleeves of her shirt were sodden with blood from where her father had cut her with his fingernails, and she could already feel bruises forming on her face and her stomach. On the floor, a few paces from her, her father lay still and lifeless. The guilt and shock she should have been feeling were absent. All she felt was relief, cool and sweet.

She slid down the wall until she was sitting, drew her knees up, buried her face in her arms, and began to sob. She didn't know how long she sat there, but it was dark by the time she got up and looked out the window.

She realized that she had some things she needed to take care of. After all, living in the house with her father's corpse couldn't be healthy. She went upstairs and into the bathroom, running herself a hot shower. Gingerly, she washed her face, aware of the tender flesh where she had been struck. When she emerged from the water, she looked at herself in the mirror. There was no makeup in the world that could conceal that much damage. Then, a thought occurred to her.

Closing her eyes, she slowly, hesitantly whispered the words to conjure an illusion of concealment. As soon as the spell left her lips, Loki's ring began to grow warm against her skin. Wonder sprang up inside of her as she looked in the mirror and saw her face, looking as if nothing had happened. More tears threatened to spill over her eyelashes.

"Thank you," she whispered, hoping that wherever he was in the vast realms of the universe, he could hear her.

She went back downstairs, and knelt over her father's body. A few more spells concealed the marks from where the bolt of energy had struck him, and rendered him looking perfectly normal. At least, normal for a corpse.

And then, she did what any eighteen-year-old girl would do if she came home and found her father lying cold and unmoving on the floor.

She called the police.


	15. Angel

**Chapter 14 was also uploaded earlier today, so don't miss it! Read it first!**

**_TEALHAIREDIDIOT_****, thank you for your encouragement! Don't worry; I have no intention of quitting this story anytime soon. I wouldn't risk Loki's rage. ;) **

**_Childrenofwisdomandlove_****, your review made me smile! I love the villains as well (don't worry, whatever's wrong with you is wrong with me, too)! Please keep reviewing! Your support means a lot!**

**Well, folks, I know you're all waiting for the Loki/Lottie reunion. I promise, its coming. Next chapter, officially! For now, enjoy! :D And REVIEW (or I'll send Loki after you with the Tesseract). **

* * *

The empty tears that stained Lottie's cheeks at her father's burial service were an illusion. Literally. She was cold and emotionless. She was disdainful, really. She wished she could be anywhere else. Why _should_ she feel sorrow over the death of a man who never showed any interest in her other than to abuse her? He had received his due recompense.

Meanwhile, Jane shed true tears, clinging to Charlotte as she wept. Very few people had come. The graveside service was attended by only four people besides Lottie and Jane. The minister intoned the closing of the service, the dirt was shovelled in over the casket, and it was over.

Later that day, Jane and Charlotte sat in the house, waiting for the taxi to arrive to take Jane to the airport. She was flying out to Texas, this time. She thought she'd picked up on some significant weather patterns and she wanted a chance to observe them. Darcy was meeting her out there. Eric was involved in some other, white collar scientific group lately.

"So you're still trying to find your god of thunder?" Lottie asked.

Jane blushed slightly. "Well, it's worth a try. What about you? What will you do now?"

"I guess I'll stay here, for now. I'm going to try to find a job somewhere."

"No university?"

Charlotte stared at her sister sharply. "Why in the world would I do that? I have no interest in anything that they can offer me."

"Okay, fine. I was just asking."

There was a pause.

"What's Eric doing?" Lottie asked finally.

"He's involved in a group called S.H.I.E.L.D. He's doing research on some artifact that they've found. I don't know much. It's really hush-hush."

The taxi pulled in the driveway just then, and Jane stood and grabbed her bags.

"Well," she said, "take care. Are you sure you'll be okay all by yourself?"

"Yeah, sure," Lottie replied. "Safe flight."

They embraced briefly, awkwardly, and then Jane was gone. Lottie watched the taxi pull out, carrying the last living member of her family away from her. She felt nothing. She didn't need them.

The next few weeks crawled by. Charlotte applied at several nearby stores for work, and finally landed a position at an ice cream parlour a mere ten minute walk from her house. It was seasonal work, and nothing exciting, but it would pay for her groceries. Her father had, of course, left nothing.

Meanwhile, Jack hadn't given up on her. He texted her every day, asking how she was. One thing she would give him was determination. He was apparently going to a university in Colorado in the fall, to take chemical engineering.

_Well that sounds thrilling_, she thought.

The summer came and went without Lottie knowing where it had gone. She had no friends. There was no one whose company she could tolerate. She worked four days a week, went for walks, read lots of books, and worked on her spells. When she was bored, she would cast illusions and transform her house into a fairyland of magic. Her abilities had not diminished since her father had died. Instead, they seemed to expand. She had heard nothing from Loki, and her heart still ached to feel him again, but she held onto the hope that he was still watching over her, and that one day, she would see him again.

It was winter. The ground was coated in frost, the trees covered in ice and sparkling brilliantly in the lamplight of the New York night. Lottie was curled up in the window seat, staring unseeingly out the glass, mind wandering, when her phone rang.

It was Jane. She sounded extremely panicked. She had stumbled across a piece of information about S.H.I.E.L.D. and Eric's research, and apparently the implications were massive.

"Lottie, please, you've got to fly out there for me. I can't reach him. Everyone on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s system is in full lockdown. The only way to warn him is to go out there, and I can't right now. I'm going to email you a file of information. Put it on a flash drive and take it to him. Please, Charlotte, promise me you'll do it."

Lottie sighed. She really couldn't be bothered with Jane's scientific problems.

"Why can't Darcy go?" she asked.

"Darcy's not here anymore. She's gone to California for a vacation."

"Of course," said Lottie dryly. "Where do I have to go to find these S.H.I.E.L.D. people?"

"South Carolina," Jane answered.

The conversation ended shortly thereafter, Lottie agreeing to do it, more for the change of scenery than for her sister. The promised file of information appeared on her email within five minutes. Curious, she tried to open it, but it was locked.

_Typical_.

Assuming Eric would know that password to access the information, she downloaded it onto a drive and began to look into flights.

And that was why she found herself on a plane in the middle of the night. It was a brief flight, and she slept through the duration. When she arrived in South Carolina, she called a taxi and handed the driver the address she had scribbled on a piece of paper. He gave her a strange look when he saw it, but agreed to take her.

An hour later, they arrived. Or rather, they tried to arrive. They were stopped at a large gate by a man wearing fatigues, with a machine gun hanging off his shoulder.

"Sorry, no entrance is permitted," he growled.

Charlotte opened her door and got out. The guard seemed startled at her movement, but she smiled fetchingly at him, and he seemed to forget that he should be concerned.

"Listen," she said in a low tone, "my sister is an astrophysicist, Jane Foster. She's given me urgent information that I have to get through to Dr. Eric Selvig. Can't you please make an exception? It's important."

The guard looked undecided. "We've got problems going on inside. Why can't you give the information to me, and I'll give it to Dr. Selvig?"

"I'd like to," she answered, "but I promised my sister I'd hand it to him directly. It's a sensitive issue. And I hate to push you, but it's also _time_ sensitive," she mentioned, casually tracing the pattern on his sleeve with her fingertips.

He swallowed, hesitated, and swallowed again. "Well, alright. I'll clear you to security. They can decide there whether or not you can see him. But you go in on foot."

"Agreed," she replied with a smile.

She reached through the window and handed the taxi driver his pay, telling him she'd call him later if she needed him. And then she walked through the gates and into S.H.I.E.L.D.

Inside, they did indeed have problems, as the guard had said. Red lights were flashing on the roof of the large building strait ahead of her, and there was the distant wail of an alarm on the breeze.

_Whatever it is that Jane wanted me to warn Eric about, it seems I'm too late_, she thought with a grin.

Not bothering about security, she walked straight up to a door in the side of the main building and went in. There were people running around like hamsters on a wheel, carrying boxes and shouting orders. The sirens were blaring, and the ground trembled slightly, like some huge beast was waking below.

If Eric was truly as involved in all this as Jane said, then logically Lottie could find him in the place that everyone was fleeing from. So, she began to walk counter-current, winding her way through narrow, twisting passages. Everyone else was too panicked to question or even notice her presence. She was passing another doorway when a strange feeling took hold of her, bringing her to a halt. There was a buzzing in her mind, a pull, drawing her toward the doorway. Like a hound on a blood-scent, she followed the draw through the door, down a set of stairs, around a corner, and into a large, cavernous room.

And there, she saw it. It glowed with that blue light that she knew all too well, pulsing with energy, with life, with pure, raw power. The Tesseract. A black man with an eye patch was pacing beside it, throwing worried glances at Eric, who was bent over several monitors set up behind the cube. In front of it was a long, empty space, which ended in an elevated platform.

Everyone was talking, throwing around terms and concerns at the speed of light, but Charlotte was too mesmerized to notice. Her eyes were glued to the glowing cube of light, fascination and desire sweeping through her simultaneously as she stepped toward it.

It was then that Eric noticed her.

"Lottie?" he said, surprise tinting his voice.

She turned black eyes on him, but didn't have time to answer, as the Tesseract suddenly began to spark, throwing off beams of energy and sizzling loudly. Before any of the scientists had time to respond, it suddenly exploded into a blinding shaft of blue light that extended from it to the platform in front of it. Where it struck the back wall, a black, cavernous space appeared, and in it Lottie could glimpse stars, galaxies, an endless stretch of universe.

Gradually, a figure started to form at the center of the beam, taking on shape. He was kneeling, head bowed, illuminated in power like an angel.

As quickly as the beam had appeared, it was suddenly gone, and the Tesseract sat silent once more. Gradually, people in the room began to breathe again, as four men armed with machine guns advanced cautiously toward the platform and the figure still kneeling on it.

Lottie's breathing was strangled; her heartbeat erratic. Her ring was sparking and sizzling with the same blue energy that had emerged from the Tesseract, but that was not the reason for the sudden wave of dizziness that overcame her, or the reason that her knees gave out and she had to grip the table for support.

She knew that figure. She knew his face. She knew his voice. She knew his heart, his mind, and his soul.

An angel? Oh, yes. An angel of death.

Loki.


	16. Slave

**I'm so sorry that I didn't update yesterday! I missed my story and my wonderful readers! **

**Well, here it is…Loki and Lottie's official reunion. :D **

**Shoutouts to:**

**_M.C. Denalde_****: I'm so glad it seemed real! I was trying really hard for that. Thank you for encouraging me! **

**_Forbidden Moons_****: as always, you're amazing! You've reviewed on every single chapter and it means a lot to both me and Loki! :D **

**_Guest_****: I shall! Please keep reading and reviewing! Thank you! **

**_Mrs. WaylandOdinsonBlack_****: gahhh I'm so happy to hear that! I've been really hoping that y'all will be able to SEE the story, and it won't seem overly dramatic. Thank You! **

**_TEALHAIREDIDIOT_****: that means a lot to me! I'm so glad that you're enjoying the story! **

**Everybody, please keep reviewing! I love hearing from you! Hugs! **

**Xo**

* * *

Lottie wasn't sure that her trembling legs would support her. Loki slowly raised his head, a dark grin on his face. His eyes met hers for a fraction of a second before they snapped to the man with the eye patch, who was speaking.

"Sir, please, put down the spear," he was saying.

Loki was holding a golden spear, and embedded in its tip was a blue, glowing jewel of energy, that matched the Tesseract. He was dressed in green, black and gold, resplendent as a king sitting on his throne.

At the man's words, he looked down at the spear with an almost surprised glance, before he thrust it forward viciously, shooting a bolt of blue death toward the scientists. The guards stopped advancing and began to fire, the rattle of the machine guns echoing in the empty room. Bullets splattered across Loki's face and body, but they did more to enrage him than to harm him. With a black glance, he blasted them with his scepter, sparing no fury on any of them. Meanwhile, the one-eyed man hurried to the Tesseract with a silver case, and placed it inside.

Finally, it was over. A long silence reigned. Loki stood, braced like a lion about to attack, surrounded by the smoking remains of the room full of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. Four men were left standing. Eric Selvig, a business man in a suit, the black man with the patch, still holding the silver case containing the cube, and a man with a quiver of arrows at his back, dressed like an assassin.

One by one, Loki went up to all of them but the one-eyed man, and tapped them on the chest with his spear. Lottie watched, fascinated, as their breathing slowed and their eyes morphed to onyx black, and then to an unnatural, blank blue. After that, they seemed quite compliant. Loki said a quiet word to the assassin, who calmly pulled out his pistol and shot the one-eyed man. The case with the Tesseract dropped to the floor with a clang, and the assassin retrieved it.

At last, Loki turned to Charlotte. Barely trusting her own legs to carry her, she walked slowly toward him, drinking in every beloved line of his face. He looked tired, she noticed with concern. There were dark stains beneath his eyes. Care furrowed his brow, darkened his gaze. He was burdened.

She stretched hesitant, trembling fingers to his face, and trailed her fingertips across the cold skin of his cheek. His gaze softened, slightly, losing some of its intensity. A strange vulnerability appeared in the depths of his emerald eyes. He took a deep breath, looked for a moment as if he would say something, but then surprised her by moving close to embrace her. He wrapped his powerful arms around her, holding her to him, as he buried his face in her neck. She noted with alarm that he was trembling. Desperate to still him, she tangled her fingers in his ebony hair and held him close.

More than a year of frustration, bitterness, anxiety and doubt seemed to drain away in that moment. He was here, in her arms, and he was just as much hers as he had been that glittering night in New Mexico.

She didn't know how long they stood there, drowning in the sound of each other's heartbeat, but it was Eric's voice that broke them apart at last.

"Sir," he said reluctantly, "we have about three minutes before this situation becomes critical. The Tesseract has unleashed more energy than this structure can contain without imploding."

Wordlessly, Loki turned and motioned to the assassin the lead the way out. The Tesseract was handed to the business man, who followed. Lottie didn't have to think twice about staying by his side. She would not lose him again. The group of five made their way back up the stairs and out into the main level, where the situation was becoming more hectic. Chunks of plaster were falling from the ceiling, and the ground trembled perpetually.

"We'll need to utilize one of these vehicles, sir," the assassin said to Loki, gesturing to a row of trucks parked in some form of underground garage.

Loki nodded, and the three men got into the cab, while he pulled Lottie into the back with him. They pulled away with squealing tires.

Loki turned to Lottie and spoke to her for the first time. "Do you trust me?" he asked softly.

She brushed her fingers over his where they clenched the spear. "Always," she replied.

Wind rushed by them, and behind their vehicle the ground began to fall away as the building collapsed under the force of the Tesseract's energy, but Lottie didn't notice. She was found. She was whole again.

"Will you follow me?" he asked again.

She smiled softly. "Anywhere," she breathed.

He was close to her, so close that she could feel the power radiating off of him, intoxicating her, drawing her in.

"Then will you stand with me, and watch your world fall?" he whispered.

A thrill ran through her. "Yes."

He smiled, a wild, dark smile that sent a chill through her bloodstream. He took her hand in his, and lifted it slowly to his lips, his eyes never leaving hers. His mouth brushed her fingers, his icy breath ghosting across her palm, setting her whole being on fire.

She would follow him beyond the earth, beyond the fall and the fire, beyond the last star in the cosmos. She belonged to him. She was his slave.

And he was hers.

Loki.


	17. Wasteland

**Alright, folks! Don't miss Chapter 16! I uploaded it earlier! :D **

**_Childrenofwisdomandlove_****, thank you, thank you, THANK YOU! That means so much! And YES, I'll send him after you, LOL. I'll tell him to be nice. ;) **

**_Biyance. silva,_**** thank you for reviewing! I'm so glad you like the story! And I'm glad if you think I'm portraying the characters well (especially Loki; he's a bit of a challenge to write). Keep R & R'ing, you're awesome! :D **

**_Mrs. WaylandOdinsonBlack_****, THANKS! I'm so glad you liked it. I actually didn't know if I liked the last chapter or not, so your support means a lot! **

**Xo**

* * *

They set up in an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of New York. Barton had been most helpful in the finding of the location. He had been a good choice.

Now Loki sat, silent, watching the mortals hurry around in the makeshift lab, preparing for the day of vengeance. They had no idea what he was planning. They only knew that they would have revenge on S.H.I.E.L.D. They had been recruited over the past week for their hatred of the organization. It was what drew them together; made them a cohesive unit.

Loki's gaze intensified when he saw her. She'd traded her classic jeans and T-shirt for a black jumpsuit, which was more practical for this sort of existence. It hugged every line of her body, accentuated the graceful curve of her hips and the muscled planes of her shoulders. Dark hair fell in loose waves to the small of her back.

She didn't realize what an effect she had on him. Didn't know how his heart needed her, while his mind rebelled. He had fought his attraction to her harder than he had ever fought anything. It was foolish, futile, the reckless dream of a creature who had yearned too long for companionship and love.

Here she was, now, bound to him irresistibly, preparing to subdue the world by his side, but when it was all over, what then? What would become of their strange affair once the apocalypse was finished? After the world fell, he would live on to see ten thousand moons cross the sky. He was practically a god, and what was she? Nothing more than a mortal, weak and frail, a member of a race destined to die.

Across the room, she met his gaze, cheeks slightly flushed at the hunger she found in his eyes. He stared at her, unsmiling, unmoving, a battle raging in the ruins of his heart. There was no hope for this. Time and again he had built a wall of ice around his soul, only to have it come tumbling down with one glance of those dark eyes, with one touch of her warm skin against his. When had she become the object of his adoration, the apex of every unfulfilled dream? What cruel twist of fate had woven her into his spirit so inextricably that he felt consumed by her?

It was foolish. More than that, it was laughable. He was a being out of legend, born to be a king, and she was a young, simple mortal girl. Her innocence and naivety had captivated him when he first saw her, and over the years he had watched as that naivety slowly gave way and turned, changing her into a creature of emptiness and darkness. He had broken down every resistance, destroyed the last vestiges of doubt that lingered in the recesses of her mind. She was his possession, she was his prize, she was the one thing he truly wanted…and she was the one thing he mustn't have. With a snarl, he ripped his gaze away from her.

A sudden wave of vertigo overcame him as his sceptre began to glow. The Chitauri were calling to him. He closed his eyes and allowed the swirling sensation to overcome him, to transport him to their world.

"You grow weak, Asgardian," said a guttural voice from the shadows, a voice that Loki had learned to know all too well during his exile.

"Weak?" he said. He laughed softly. "I don't think so."

"This human, this _mortal_, distracts you. Our forces are waiting." The owner of the voice stepped out from behind a rock outcropping, grotesque face semi-concealed behind a hood.

"You will have what you want. I will lead your forces in a glorious battle."

"Against the pitiful might of Earth?"

"Glorious," Loki said, "not lengthy."

"And what of the girl?"

Loki's jaw tightened. "What of her?"

"Do not allow her to draw your mind away from your mission. If you fail us, you will suffer more than you knew possible. You think you know pain? You will long for something as sweet as pain."

There was a blinding flash of light, and it was over. Loki sat once again on the steps in the warehouse, breathing heavily. He sensed Lottie's presence immediately, a wave of heady warmth that washed over him.

"What is it, little one?" he asked wearily.

She sat beside him, concern creasing her brow. "You're troubled," she stated.

He smiled gently. "Everyone has a burden they must bear."

She covered his fingers with her own, lightly. "Will you not let be bear it with you?"

"Not this," he replied softly.

He could feel the worry in the heart as clearly as he could feel her hand on his. Turning to her, he was shocked to see her dark eyes glistening with tears, shining brighter than starlight. She had never looked more beautiful. One sparkling drop escaped the veil of her lashes and trailed down her cheek. Barely knowing what overcame him, he reached out and caught it on his finger. Lifting her chin with his other hand, he raised his finger to his lips and kissed her tear away, closing his eyes as the salty liquid touched his tongue. Slowly, he opened his eyes again. She was staring at him, fascination and yearning written clearly on her features. He brushed his knuckles across her cheek before tangling his fingers in the soft waves of her hair, pulling her toward him until she was pressed flush against his chest. His other hand slid around her waist as he ducked his head, pressing his lips to the warm skin of her neck. Her scent washed over him, intoxicating him like wine. The soft warmth of her skin drew him in, drowning him in a wasteland of desire. He pulled on her hair, tilting her head back as he trailed feather-light kisses down her throat. Against his mouth he could feel her skin vibrate as she moaned softly.

It was that sound, her light exclamation of pleasure, that brought him to his wits.

_Damn_.

He stood abruptly, turning his back on her and raking his hands through his hair. Behind him, he heard her stand and approach him. Her hand came to rest gently on his shoulder.

"Loki?"

The broken sound of her voice shattered him. He knew if he stayed a moment longer, it would be his undoing. He pulled away, walking away from her, forcing himself not to look back.

He was far too deeply entangled. He'd given over more of himself than he'd care to admit. He needed her desperately, more than he needed water to drink, or air to breath. She was his narcotic. She was his oxygen.

She was his ruination.

Lottie.


	18. Shadows

**_TEALHAIREDIDIOT_****, that is so incredibly sweet of you! Thank you! I'm just thrilled that you're enjoying the story. :D Keep reviewing, please! It means a lot! **

**_Guest reviewer_****, your encouragement means a lot to me. I wanted to go outside the box with this story, and not follow the typical Loki/Jane's sister plot lines. So, I'm glad to hear that I'm succeeding so far! I hope you continue to enjoy the story! I appreciate any constructive criticism and feedback, so please review again! :D **

**_M.C. Denalde_****, GOOD! He's a challenge to write, our boy Loki. Do you think I'm doing justice to his wonderfulness? Keep up the reviewing! You're awesome! **

**_Anon_****, I have a semi-happy ending in mind. ;) I'm not typically into the happy ending thing, but I know quite a few of you are and I want you to be happy with the story, so I've planned something special. I'm so glad you reviewed and you like the story! :D **

**_Forbidden Moons_****, what can I say? You've been such a faithful reviewer and supporter of this story since day one! Jane and Thor's reactions are coming. ;) It's going to be…spectacular. Lol! **

**Without further ado, may I present for your reading pleasure….chapter 18!**

**Love and hugs! **

**Xo**

* * *

Lottie's mind was racing, her heart struggling to keep up. She sat on the cold, concrete stairs of Loki's makeshift laboratory, staring as scientists in white coats hurry around, conducting research, but her eyes were blind to it all.

The tender skin of her neck still tingled where his icy lips had touched her. She shivered at the memory of his touch, his fingers in her hair, the muscled planes of his chest pressed against her. She had lost herself in him, in his scent, in his kisses, in the waves of power that radiated from him. Gone was the paternal relationship of her youth. There was nothing fatherly in the way he looked at her, the way he touched her, the way the tension in his body betrayed his desire for her.

And yet, he had left. His abrupt departure troubled her. He seemed to be fleeing, running away from a situation that he had not foreseen, and that was completely unlike him. Loki was always sure, he always had a plan. His confidence knew no bounds.

She was troubled by the dark stains under his eyes. She worried for the burden that he carried. He was so alone. He refused to let anyone in. His skin seemed even paler, if that was possible; his touch even colder.

She stood and stared down the dark passageway that he had disappeared into. Common sense told her to leave him alone. She had seen his wrath before, and didn't want to tempt him into feeling that same fury toward her; but simultaneously, her long years of caring for him refused to let her stop now. Numb feet carried her hesitantly down the concrete tunnel. All was still, but for the sound of water dripping somewhere in the distance.

She had never been in this tunnel before; they all knew that it was Loki's domain, and none of them, even Lottie, had garnered an invitation. The path seemed to stretch on forever, and with every step, Charlotte's hesitancy grew. Then, suddenly, she was faced with a dead end. To her left, a heavy wooden door was closed, but dim light spilled from underneath it. For several long, agonizing moments, she stood frozen, fingers hovering over the latch. At last, she found her courage, and opened the door, which swung silently inward on its hinges.

Her breath caught at the contents of the room beyond. The ceiling soared far above her, and candlelight bathed the chamber in a warm, seductive glow. A lush bed stood in the far corner, and rich tapestries hung from the stone walls. Distantly, Charlotte wondered if it was illusion.

"Why are you here?"

The soft but dark sound of his voice suddenly reminded her of the reason for her presence. He was standing with his back to her, his arm and forehead leaning against the wall. He was shirtless, and the glow of candlelight cast strange shadows, which slid across the silvery skin of his back. He half turned, so that he could regard her out of the corner of his eye.

She was breathless at the sight of him. Such a strange, wild creature. A being out of myths and legends. A god, truly. He was beautiful.

"Answer me, Charlotte."

His voice was still soft, but the warning in it could not be mistaken.

She took a tentative step toward him, and instantly he was alert and facing her, the wariness in his eyes reminding her of a cornered beast.

"I'm not sure," she whispered, the sound echoing in the stony chamber.

He sighed, the strange anguish in his eyes nearly shattering her heart. Walking over to a small table, he poured an amber liquid into two small glasses. He picked them up and walked closer, handing one to her. She did not miss the way he seemed to flinch as his fingers brushed hers.

Turning his back on her again, he threw the drink down his throat in one swift motion.

"You can have mine as well," she said quietly.

He stared at her for a moment before he waved his hand dismissively. The glass in her hand dissolved like smoke.

The tension in the room was thick. The setting was far too intimate and confining for the conversation that Lottie knew needed to happen.

"Loki, please," she said softly, "you need to tell me what's going on."

His continued silence scared her. She took another step toward him.

"Loki."

His pale shoulders rose and fell with a heavy breath, and he raked his fingers through his hair, but showed no other signed of having heard her.

"Damn it, Loki, look at me!" she cried.

Then, he spun around. The visceral anger in his eyes both terrified and allured her simultaneously.

_What's wrong with me?_

She barely had time to ask herself the question before she bore the full brunt of his rage. The room darkened as an icy, howling wind extinguished the candles. Dark shadows rose up where naturally none should appear. And above it all, the sound of his snarling voice consumed her in darkness.

"You dare to give me orders? You dare to question me? You're nothing. You're mortal filth. You think that your pretty face and your enticing ways can ensnare me? You would presume to stand beside a god and call yourself his equal?"

Suddenly, his fingers were around her throat, freezing the tender skin beneath.

"Look at me."

She tore her gaze away from the ground and met his blinding gaze.

"Pathetic," he spat. "You think you can love me. You think you would follow me."

He leaned closer, until his cool breath was ghosting along her jaw.

"You don't truly know me," he said in a whisper now. "You don't know what I am."

He released her, and the wind stopped shrieking, the candles glowed once more, and he sat on the edge of the bed, head in his hands.

"Then what are you?" she asked, unable to tell if the tremble in her voice stemmed from fear or her growing desire to be near to him.

He looked up, piercing her with his broken, haunting eyes, immobilizing her.

"A monster," he said quietly.

In that moment, Charlotte was truly shattered. She didn't know afterward how long she stood, still, unmoving, her broken eyes meeting his empty ones. After what seemed like an eternity, she finally regained the use of her limbs, and took slow steps until she stood directly before him.

How suddenly their positions were reversed. Now it was he who looked down, refusing to meet her gaze. Never had she seen him so vulnerable, so ruined. He had exposed the deepest places of his soul to her. Underneath all of his feral, glittering beauty, he was lost.

She gently traced the arch of his brow; the tilt of his jaw; the curve of his lips. Placing her fingertips under his chin, she raised his head to stare deep into his eyes.

"I choose you," she whispered.

She pressed her lips to the cool, silvery skin of his forehead before she silently retreated, leaving him alone, bathed in candlelight and splendour.

She would always choose him. She had no choice. There was no other path.

She was his. She always would be.

Loki.


	19. Sparks

**_M.C. Denalde_****, thank you! So much! I'm so glad you think I'm doing him justice. He's a hard one to figure out. It's very difficult to get inside his mind. So your encouragement means the world to me! :D **

**_TEALHAIREDIDIOT_****, oh dear, I'm sorry, I hope I didn't cause you a sleepless night! LOL! Thank you for supporting this story. :D **

**_Scipio96, _****I'm actually considering continuing this through the Dark World. I have been sort of skimming the bulk of the content in both Thor and Avengers so that I can focus on the relationship between Loki and Lottie. I like the idea of tying all three stories together with the two of them. What do you think? And you should watch the Dark World when it comes out on DVD, it's a spectacular film. Lots and Lots of Loki Goodness (which is why I splurged and went to see it twice :D) Thank you for reviewing! Keep it up! **

**_Forbidden Moons_****, I know, I've always hated the Chitauri for what they did to Loki. Nasty creatures! And my spectacular promise shall come true soon-ish, I hope…I'm really looking forward to writing it but I don't want to rush any of the prior content to get there. You're the best! Keep reviewing! :D **

**Alright, dear readers, here is chapter 19. I'm not too sure what I think of this one…I feel like their relationship should be more turbulent than it is in this chapter, so I may be upping the angst for a while after this. **

**Reviews are lovely and loved (by both Loki and myself:)! **

**Xo **

* * *

A strange brightness seeped through Lottie's eyelids as she regained consciousness the next morning. Light of any kind was rare in her small, cold room in the warehouse. Slowly opening her eyes, she was instantly awake, startled by the soft glow that bathed the room in an unearthly light.

She should not have been surprised to turn and see Loki sitting on the edge of the bed beside her. Every trace of his anguish of the night before was gone. He was clothed in full battle armour, his eyes glittering.

She propped herself up on one elbow, her dark hair spilling over her bare shoulders, her skin glowing in the light.

"My vengeance begins today," Loki said softly. "Come."

He held his hand out to her, and she placed hers in it, feeling fresh chills run through her at his touch. He pulled her gently up from the bed until she stood in front of him. He gestured to an unfamiliar set of clothing that hung over the back of a chair.

"Dress," he said, "and then I will explain everything to you."

Obediently, she gathered the clothes in her arms and made her way to the bathroom. Hurriedly, she brushed her teeth, braided her hair loosely, and applied just a touch of dark makeup before she turned to the clothes. A pair of snug, black leather leggings were first. They were followed by a dark green tunic. The fabric was strange, unlike any she had ever felt before. The tunic was tailored to hug her curves and the cut of the V-neck was rather deep, but it was comfortable. Over the tunic she put on a heavy, black leather vest that laced up the front. She did not miss the gold stencilling etched across the right shoulder. A pair of knee-high, flat black boots finished the outfit. Turning to regard herself in the mirror, she was speechless at what she saw.

She looked…like _him. _

The colors of the materials made her hair seem darker, her skin paler. The fabrics and designs were what _he_ wore. She was unmistakably marked as his property, as his slave, and the realization made her shudder.

Leaving her other clothes on the bathroom floor, she opened the door and stepped out, watching to see his reaction to her transformation. A hint of a smile played about the corners of his lips, but he simply nodded. He motioned toward her bed, and she saw that he's placed a small suitcase on it.

"You will need provisions for around three days," he said.

He continued to speak as she packed.

"The day of the apocalypse approaches. Only one thing stands between me and my rule. This organization, known as S.H.I.E.L.D., has brought together a group of unusual mortals, supposedly endowed with special abilities. They plan to intercept my plans and punish me for my crimes. They are insignificant, unworthy, but still, they do pose a potential threat. They must be eliminated. Meanwhile, Agent Barton has discovered the location of our missing ingredient to exploit the full power of the Tesseract. Today, we fly to Stuttgart, Germany. I will assist Agent Barton in the claiming of this ingredient, and then I will hand myself over to S.H.I.E.L.D."

Lottie's head flew up.

"What?"

Loki laughed softly, circling to stand behind her and sliding his hand around her waist, pulling her back so that she was flush against him. Beneath his armor, she could feel the muscles of his chest pressing against her back as she tipped her head back to rest on his shoulder.

"Not to worry, little one," he whispered in her ear, slowly tangling his fingers with hers. "I will rip their little group apart from the inside out."

She smiled then, turning her face into his neck and pressing her mouth against his throat, feeling his pulse beneath her lips.

"How long must you be their captive?" she asked against his skin.

His throat vibrated as he laughed again. "Not long," he answered, pulling away from her, leaving her feeling empty.

"Barton has detailed instructions concerning the logistics of the operation. Stay with him."

"I will," she promised.

"You, too, have a part to play in what is coming. Be patient, and I will show you all the wonders of the universe."

She shivered as she nodded.

He walked to the door, with those long, confident strides of his. Before he left, he paused, turning to look back at her.

"When we embark, we will have little time for farewells," he said. "Perhaps they should be said now."

She nodded, moving toward him as he once again extended his hand to her. This time, as his fingers closed around hers, she sensed the tension in him. His eyes seemed to smoulder, darkening to the color of the sea after a storm. Darkness enveloped her; icy tendrils wrapped around her heart and drew her into his gaze. She was faintly aware of the solidarity of the wall against her back. His hands slid around her waist, pulling her against him firmly. Her own hands slid up the cool expanse of leather and steel that coated his chest, and then tangled themselves in the silky, raven strands of his hair.

Her eyes slid closed of their own accord, her breathing rapid and irregular as her heart set a wild rhythm. She could feel his breath against her lips now; he was close, so very close to her. The moment of agonizing intimacy seemed to stretch on for an eternity.

And then, he kissed her.

His lips just barely brushed hers, but the sparks that flew from that slight touch enveloped her as ice met fire, and the erotic sensation of his soft, icy mouth against hers pushed a slight whimper past her parted lips.

She opened hazy eyes to catch a slight, triumphant smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

And then, he was gone. That had been goodbye, she realized.

_What a moron!_

Just a taste; that was all he was willing to give her, knowing full well that it would set her on fire. A raging inferno was blazing in her soul. She needed him. She longed for him.

And he walked away.

_This should teach you, Charlotte_, she chastised herself. _Never__ fall for someone out of Norse mythology. Especially the flipping god of mischief! He's playing with you. He's been toying with your mind from the beginning, but now he's starting to meddle with your heart_.

But the new, darker side of her drowned out the rational.

_Let him play_._ Let him do with me what he wants. Let him burn me in a hundred fires, or drown me in a thousand seas. He is my master. He is my maker. He is my compulsion. _

_Loki_. 


	20. Blood

**AHH I have missed my story and my wonderful readers! I apologize for the delay in posting this chapter; my social life decided to EXPLODE and I haven't had much of a chance to do ****_anything_****. **

**Shoutouts!**

**_M.C. Denalde_****! The action begins in this chapter! Our dear little Lottie seems a bit rabid in this, actually…what do you think? Too much? Okay? Your opinions mean a lot to me! **

**_Forbidden Moons_****! Yay! I'm so glad you liked my idea of her wearing his colors! I thought it was delightful, so I'm glad to know that Loki and I weren't the only ones who appreciated it. :D **

**_Jarjarjinx_****! I like your new pen name! And your support of this story is mind-blowing! You are so, so encouraging and sweet in your reviews. I highly doubt my story would win anything, but just having you think so means the world to me. :D Please keep reviewing! **

**Alright, everyone! Hopefully I shall be better about posting than I was this week, but if not, I apologize in advance. Enjoy, and ****review****_,_****or I'll have Loki teleport you to Svartalfheim! **

Lottie crouched, noiseless, on the roof of the great hall in Stuttgart. Thirty feet ahead of her, she could make out the vague form of the guard in the gathering twilight, as he paced along the perimeter of the roof, watching below for signs of threat. Every footfall as silent as a panther stalking its prey, Charlotte closed the gap between her and the guard, twin blades held in her hands.

She was distantly aware that she was trembling, but she shrugged it off, dismissing her reaction to the cold wind that was blowing. The guard paused for a moment, glancing more closely at something in the courtyard below. Swallowing her hesitation and slight nausea, Lottie seized the moment and plunged both knives to the hilt in his back, deliberately aimed to puncture the lungs and mute any sound of alarm he might raise.

With a soft grunt, barely audible over the sound of the wind in the trees, he collapsed at Lottie's feet. She stooped, yanked the knives out of their bloody sheaths, and leaped off the roof, landing silently on her feet. The second guard was coming toward her.

_Crap._

She'd misplayed her timing. Oh, well. No time to think of something else.

Before he could cry out and alert those inside, she rushed him, using her forward momentum to carry her straight into a roundhouse kick that had him on the ground before he realized what had hit him. Without pause, she grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanked his head back, and slid a knife across his jugular. Blood splattered the cobblestone as the guard twitched once, twice, and then lay still.

Sliding her knife back into its sheath, she ran a hand across her brow, wiping away the perspiration. Reaching up, she pressed the small button on her earpiece.

"All clear," she murmured.

"Ten-four," Hawkeye replied in her ear.

A wave of vertigo washed over Lottie suddenly, and she leaned against the wall for support. She wretched as a second, stronger wave of nausea overcame her. The smell of blood was fresh in her nostrils, and she moved shakily away from the bloody corpse lying on the ground beside her.

Loki and Hawkeye's combat training over the past week and a half had prepared her for practically any situation. The only thing it _hadn't_ prepared her for was the aftermath. The small, stubborn portion of her soul that refused to give in to her darker side was rebelling.

Distraction arrived with Hawkeye and two other men.

"Where's Loki?" she asked.

"Inside already," he answered without looking at her, "which is why we've got to hurry."

He strode purposefully over to a small indent in the wall. He punched a few numbers into a lock system built into the rock, and a door swung open. Inside, a blue, glowing scanner sat pulsing with electricity.

Lottie's head flew up as screams began from inside the building; the raw, animalistic sound of mortals in terror.

"You better get out there," Hawkeye said, glancing at her out of one, too-blue eye.

She nodded, spinning on her heel and jogging swiftly around the building into the square which sat in front of it, on the main street. She ducked into the shadow of a phone booth across the road, watching closely as people began pouring out of the hall onto the road. They were important people; political and social bigwigs, dressed to the nines in designer brands and stiletto heels. A sneer twisted her features as she contemplated what they were about to learn about life. Here they were, thinking themselves on top of the world, and they were about to kneel as the precarious social balance of the world around them came tumbling down.

Her heart tripped as she saw him. He appeared in a flash of light in the midst of the fleeing crowd, dressed like a king, following them out into the square.

"Kneel," he said, softly, but still his voice could be heard clearly. The crowd swirled, confused and terrified.

Suddenly, a dozen images of Loki appeared, cutting off escape routes, each one of them sneering at the shrinking crowd.

"I said, KNEEL!" he roared, the snarl in his voice shattering the night air.

First one, then a few more, then all of them as one dropped to their knees on the cold pavement.

A twisted smile crossed Loki's face.

"Is not this better?" he asked, moving through the crowd as his illusional replicas guarded the perimeter.

"It is the unspoken truth of humanity; that you crave subjugation. In the end, you will always kneel."

Near the center of the crowd, one lone, grey head appeared above the others, as its owner stood on unsteady legs.

"Not to men like you," he said, German accent thick and nearly smothered by fear.

Loki laughed softly, dangerously. "There are no men like me," he replied.

"There are always men like you," the old man said.

Charlotte moved without knowing what she was doing. With inhuman speed, she crossed through the crowd and seized the old man by the throat.

"You dare to speak that way to your king?" she hissed.

With vehemence, she threw him to the ground, dropping beside him and jamming her knee into his sternum, watching as his watery eyes widened in shock and pain.

"You know not to whom you speak," she snarled.

She gripped a dagger and pulled it from its sheath. In the lamplight, it glowed red, still sticky with the blood of the guards. She had the blade poised a mere breath from the old man's chest, prepared to thrust it through his heart, when there was a muttered curse from Loki and the courtyard was bathed in light.

As Lottie's pupils shrank to accommodate the new lighting, she craned her neck around from where she still crouched atop the old man, and thought she saw a flash of red and blue.

_Oh, of course_, she thought wryly. _The soldier_.

This _had_ been the plan, after all; to attract the attention of S.H.I.E.L.D. so that Loki could play his hand. Captain America, she had to admit, looked better in real life than in the history books. And he could definitely rock the spandex. She cursed herself for her thoughts, ripping her eyes away from the muscled curves of his body and focusing again on Loki. He was braced to strike, rage etched on his silvery features, but right before he struck, he glanced at Lottie. His green eyes made the world go out of focus, and the ground seemed to tip beneath her feet. Then, she realized that the ground really _had_ tipped beneath her feet. She was aware of a swirling motion, and then she was standing beside their aircraft with Hawkeye, forty miles outside of Stuttgart.

If Hawkeye noticed her disorientation, he didn't mention it.

"Let's clear out," he said, guiding her onto the plane.

The flight back to the USA seemed to stretch on for an eternity. Charlotte tried to sleep, leaning back in her seat and trying to clear her mind, but rest evaded her. Finally, she gave up.

Unbuckling her seatbelt, she wandered toward the rear of the aircraft. A closed door bore a "no entry" sign, but that had never seemed to stop her before. Glancing behind her to ensure she was alone, she reached for the knob and pushed the door open. Inside she found a small, simple bedroom, with a bed that looked surprisingly comfortable considering that it was on a plane. Loki's domain.

Closing the door behind her, she walked over to the bed, fingers trailing the dark quilts until they came to rest on a pile of dark green material. Pulling it off the bed, it unfurled in her hands, revealing a rich, velvety cape. She took a deep, shaky breath, bunching the material in her arms and burying her face in its folds. His scent clung to it; a cool, fresh smell, reminiscent of metal, and mint, and something akin to the scent after a thunderstorm. She wrapped her body in the cape and crawled onto the bed, burying herself in the depths of his covers.

Here, sleep did not long escape her, and she was soon lost to the world, set adrift on an ocean of dreams and memories. She didn't know how long she had been asleep when a sudden jolt awoke her. Loki's ring burned against her finger, and a familiar dread settled over her. Outside the small window of the jet, she could glimpse storm clouds gathering to the south.

He was here. He'd come for a second round. The prince. The braggart. The warrior. The egotist.

Thor.


	21. Thunder

**Dearest readers and reviewers! Don't worry! This story is far from dead! But alas, my updates will probably be less frequent (once a week, maybe twice a week) from now on. Please don't give up on this story! **

**Also, for any of you who are Star Wars junkies like me (tee hee!) I am starting on a fic called "Forbidden". You'll find it on my page. Go check it out, if you like! **

**Please keep reviewing, and remember, this story is alive and well! :D **

**Hugs to everyone! XO **

Loki sat silently on the cool metal bench in the aircraft, head tipped back, eyes closed, the perfect image of cool self-composure. The evening had gone exactly according to plan.

Well…not entirely. Mostly, at least. The incident with the old man had been…off-script.

"So. Loki."

The American accent broke through his contemplation. He lifted his eyes to meet the gaze of this so-called "super soldier". To Loki's eye, Steve Rogers looked just as impressive as an ant beneath the sole of a boot. He smiled slowly, his features twisting and his eyes darkening, and he felt glee at the flicker of confusion and fear that passed over the Captain's features. The man in the iron suit beside Steve, though, seemed completely unphased by Loki's maniacal grin. Tony Stark's ego seemed to nearly rival Thor's. It would be fun to make him suffer, Loki thought. But Stark's next question took him completely off guard.

"Who's your girly friend, reindeer games?" he said, filling in for the Captain's silence.

_What?_

Loki had been sure that he teleported Lottie back to the aircraft before either Stark or Rogers spotted her.

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid I don't understand," he said smoothly, with an apologetic smile.

"Oh, I think you do," Stark replied. "Dark hair? Pale skin? Big, shiny knife?"

"One of the civilians in the crowd told us she was threatening an older man who gave you a hard time," Rogers said, apparently having found his voice.

"You must be mistaken," Loki purred.

Inwardly, he was fuming. His previous unease at her unscripted excursion returned.

_Stupid whelp_. _What in the name of Odin was she thinking? _

And then, thunder sounded, lightening split the sky, and, thoughts of Charlotte flew out of Loki's mind. Rain began to pelt on the roof of the aircraft, and Loki felt his stomach tighten as the aura that surrounded his brother clashed with his own.

"What's wrong," Rogers asked, "scared of a little lightening?"

"I'm not _overly_ fond of what follows," Loki replied. His brother's flashy and dramatic entries had never really thrilled him; and at this particular moment, in this particular situation, it was more unwelcome that normal.

For a long moment, Loki wondered whether perhaps the innovations of the mortals were cleverer than he had supposed, if his brother would not be able to enter the plane; but that small hope faded as the rear doors were forced open and the god of thunder appeared against a backdrop of torrential rain and raging ocean swells. Wasting no time, he strode over to where Loki sat chained to the wall, seized him in his brutish arms, and ripped him away from his bindings and into the night air.

Loki sighed and closed his eyes, knowing better than to try anything for the moment. He didn't fancy a swim in the Midguardian ocean on this particular night. At last, the nauseating sensation of flight ended, and Loki was hurled forcefully against a stony ground. Apparently, Thor had taken them somewhere in the middle of a forest, and managed to land on the one stony outcropping in the area.

Cursing under his breath, Loki raised himself slowly onto his elbows and looked up at his long-lost brother. A slow, sadistic chuckle left his lips.

"Where is the Tesseract?" Thor demanded.

"I missed you too," Loki said, brushing the dirt and rain off his clothes.

"Do I look to be in a gaming mood?" Thor replied.

"You should thank me," Loki replied with a slight groan as he stood on aching muscles. "With the Byfrost gone, how much dark energy did the Allfather have to muster to conjure you here? Your precious earth."

There was a bang as Thor dropped Mjolnir and seized Loki, pulling him the rest of the way to his feet.

"I thought you dead," he said quietly.

"Did you mourn?" Loki spat.

"We all did. Our father-"

"_Your_. Father." Loki corrected, unable to keep the bitter edge out of his voice. "He did tell you my true parentage, did he not?"

Turning away from his so-called brother, Loki started walking down the edge of the outcropping. Behind him, Thor continued to ramble.

"We were raised together. We played together; we fought together! Do you remember none of that?"

"I remember a shadow," Loki replied, turning back on Thor. "Living in the shade of your greatness. I remember you tossing me into an _abyss_; I who was and should be king!"

"So you take the world I love as recompense for your imagined slights? No. The Earth is under my protection, Loki."

At that, Loki threw back his head and laughed. "Oh, yes, and you're doing a _marvelous_ job with that. The humans slaughter each other in droves while you idly fret. I mean to rule them! And why should I not?"

"You think yourself above them?"

"Well yes," Loki answered, brow furrowing slightly as he stated the obvious.

"Then you miss the truth of ruling, brother! The throne would suit you ill."

Thor's soft, compassionate tone enraged Loki, and he shoved past him with a blow to Thor's chest, striding up the pathway to the top of the cliff.

"I've seen worlds you've never known about," he cried with a snarl in his voice. "I have grown, _Odinson_, in my exile. I have seen the true power of the Tesseract, and-"

"You showed you this power?" Thor demanded. "Who controls the would-be king?"

"I am a king," Loki yelled, fury and other emotions that he didn't recognize battling within him.

"Not here!" Thor cried as he grabbed Loki by the shoulders. "You give up the Tesseract; you give up this poisonous dream!" His features softened as he gripped Loki's arms.

"You come home," he said.

Loki laughed softly. "I don't have it," he said.

Fury instantly reappeared on Thor's features, and Mjolnir flew back into his grasp.

"You need the Cube to bring me home," Loki continued, "but I've sent it off I know not where."

Thor took a deep breath. "Listen well, brother," he said, before he was suddenly removed from the premise by a hurtling comet of light – presumably the famous Tony Stark, suited up once more like some junk-yard malfunction.

"I'm listening," Loki commented, only to be met with silence. He chuckled softly before he sat down heavily on an obliging boulder. There was nothing now to do but wait until his captors remembered his presence and returned to fetch him. Oh, he could definitely leave if he wanted to, but there was nowhere in particular that he wanted to go.

But then again…perhaps there was. He had something yet to settle. In jeopardizing her own safety, Lottie had enraged Loki. The fury he felt boiling in his blood at the thought of S.H.I.E.L.D. tracking her down was still fresh.

_Stupid, reckless girl_.

Perhaps it was time she was taught a lesson. Perhaps it was time she saw the dark side of the god she worshipped.

Closing his eyes, Loki transported himself far away from the chaos of the forest scene and the fight happening below him, as the Avengers already began to split apart at the scenes. He took himself across the ocean. To where she was.

Lottie.


	22. Possession

**In way of apology for my tardiness in posting chapters lately, here's Chapter 22, the second one of the day! Make sure you don't miss Chapter 21. I uploaded it earlier. :D **

**This chapter is upping the angst! Still within a T rating, for sure, but there you have it! You've been warned! **

**XO**

* * *

Lottie's eyes flew open as she was roused from dreams of rain and thunder. The plane hummed softly, and she was nestled comfortably into Loki's bed, her body buried under rich blankets and furs that were permeated with his scent, intoxicating her senses and drowning her in sleepiness. She was about to slip back into rest when she heard her name.

"Charlotte."

She sat up, forcing her sleepy eyes to focus on the figure standing by the end of the bed. His features came into focus, and her stomach clenched instinctively, emotions swirling.

"I thought you were with S.H.I.E.L.D.?" she said.

"I am," he replied, seeming distracted and slightly irritated.

"So this is an illusion?"

"Of a sort. It's different, in a way. More substantial."

He began pacing back and forth at the foot of the bed, pausing every few moments to throw an intense, piercing glance at her.

"Loki? What's wrong? Is it Thor?"

At last he stopped, raked his hand through his hair, and whirled on her.

"_You_ are what's wrong! How could you reveal yourself to all those people?"

Confusion flitted across her face before realization dawned.

"Oh. The old man," she said. "I didn't think anyone noticed."

The vicious look on his face made her gut twist in apprehension. He strode over to her, leaning down until he was mere inches from her face.

"Well apparently _someone_ did, because S.H.I.E.L.D. has a description of you, and they're looking for you," he spat.

With a feral snarl, he seized her by the throat, dragging her out of the bed and hurling her across the small room. She collided with the far wall, something in her shoulder giving way with a sickening crunch. The instant pain made her dizzy, but before she could react, he was upon her again, his long, lithe fingers curled around her neck, pinning her to the wall behind her. She could feel the skin bruising beneath his crushing grip, but he wasn't finished with her. Gripping her chin in his other hand, he lifted her head so that she was forced to meet his burning gaze.

"Everything that you have is from me. Your newfound skill and abilities are because I have chosen you, out of all the weak, pathetic creatures on this world, to be mine. Do not make me regret that decision. S.H.I.E.L.D. will stop at nothing now to find you, but I will stop at nothing to protect you. If you come between me and the future of this world, you will soon learn that the most merciful way for me to protect you would be to end your small, insignificant life."

He leaned closer to her, and Lottie shuddered, hating herself when she realized that she did not shudder because of fear.

"Do you realize how easily I could kill you?" he whispered against her hair, his icy lips brushing the sensitive skin right below her ear. His fingers tightened reflexively around her jugular, and she fought for breath, choking as he crowded her back into the wall. "Do not think that I am merciful. Do not think that I am good. Trust my rage. Do not _ever_ disobey me. And remember: you are _mine_."

He released her as suddenly as he had grabbed her, and she slid to his feet, trembling as she knelt before him, tiny shivers still racing up her spine. Above her, she heard him breathing heavily, almost shakily, and she saw him reach out to the wall for support.

She looked up at him, still unable to stand, collapsed at his feet.

"Loki?" she whispered.

He looked down at her, all the fury and maniacal energy gone from his eyes, replaced by something that terrified her much more: emptiness. He looked vulnerable; lost. Moonlight peered in through the small plane window, illuminating his green eyes so they glowed eerily, and Lottie could have sworn that there were tears swimming in those emerald depths.

Gently, she reached up and took his hand. He seemed to flinch at her touch, but relaxed slowly as she drew his hand to her face and buried her cheek in his palm. He slid his hand along the curve of her jaw, brushing the pad of his thumb across the corner of her mouth before he buried his fingers in the soft waves of her hair. She stood, slowly, cautiously, watching him like a frightened beast watches a prowling lion, but the violent gleam was gone from his gaze.

His broken gaze traveled down her face and rested on the bruises blooming like a gruesome necklace across her neck. Slowly, carefully, as if he was afraid to frighten her, he lifted his fingers to her throat and carefully traced the injuries with his fingertips, murmuring something unintelligible under his breath as he did so. A tingling cool spread out from his touch, sending chills up her spine, erasing the pain and also its memory. His feather-light touch traveled to her shoulder. Hesitantly, glancing up at her as if to ask permission, he undid the top three buttons of her shirt, allowing him to slide the material off her shoulder. She shivered as his fingers traced the bared skin. Injured or not, his touch affected her in ways no one else's ever had or ever would. Once again murmuring the strange spell under his breath, she felt something shift deep beneath the skin, and the pain disappeared.

Then, he totally surprised her by leaning forward and pressing his lips to her skin, at the junction between her shoulder and her neck. His mouth parted against her tender flesh, and she whimpered softly as she felt his teeth scrape the skin. For long moments, he remained pressed against her, lips tugging softly at her neck, hands resting on her waist. At last, he pulled away, straightening, and gazed down at her, a new glint in his eye. It was not violent, nor maniacal, but Charlotte recognized it as being just as dangerous.

"Who do you belong to?" he half whispered, half growled.

Lightly, she ran a hand down his shoulder to rest over his heart.

"You," she replied softly, simply.

And then, he was gone. There was nothing beneath her hand, and the moment was over as suddenly as it had begun. Glancing around, Lottie caught sight of herself in the small mirror on the table, and yelped in surprise. She was…_blonde_. Walking closer to examine herself, she glared at her reflection in the mirror. Her dark locks were transformed to a watery yellow, the color of wheat in a field, and her eyes were blue, of all things. She sighed in frustration. Oh, it was perfectly understandable. Loki didn't want S.H.I.E.L.D. to find her, so he had cast a spell over her to alter her appearance. But still, did it have to be _blonde_? With _blue_ eyes? How very stereotypical.

And then, her attention was caught by something else. Shifting her hair to the side, her eyes widened as she took in the bruise that was forming at the base of her neck, beside her collarbone. He had truly marked her as his possession; a declaration that she was his and no one else could ever own her. Another shudder ran through her at the memory of his teeth against her skin.

Against all logic, against all reason and common sense, she had fallen for him, this monster that would settle for nothing less than her soul. The rational part of her mind was slowly learning to be mute, as the part of her that had been his for so long expanded to consume her. His rage fed her. His vision emboldened her. His power enflamed her. His passion intoxicated her.

Overcome by emotion and exhaustion, Lottie collapsed where she stood and fell into an uneasy sleep, staying there for the remainder of the flight.

And there, even beyond the realm of reality, he haunted her dreams.

Possessing her.

Loki.


	23. Siren

**Oh my goodness, I am SO sorry. It's taken **_**forever**_** to update this. I promise you, I've not given up on this story in any way. But, life seems to get in the way sometimes. Imagine that! **

**Hopefully updates will be more regular from now on, but I can't promise anything. However, please don't give up on this story…or me! **

**And M.C. Denalde, your comment made me laugh! Don't worry, I really do think blonde hair is very pretty on some people. I was blonde for a time myself! But, on Lottie…not so much. LOL! **

**Y'all are the best! Please keep R&R'ing! **

**Love you guys! XO**

* * *

Lottie's phone buzzed at the worst possible moment. She was standing poised in the cockpit of their small aircraft, adrenaline pumping through her system with every measured, trembling breath. Ahead of them, the eerie outline of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s flying Carrier was emerging slowly from the realm of the invisible. She reached into the back pocket of her snug black jumpsuit and pulled her iPhone out with a sigh. The time appeared on the display as she checked her messages. It had been a mere thirty-three hours since Loki had visited her over the ocean. In some ways it seemed like an eternity ago, but it wasn't nearly long enough for the bruise on her collarbone to fade, or for her to be able to accept the way her hair was the color of an un-watered lawn in July.

A wry grin tugged at Charlotte's lips as she read the text. It was from Jack.

"_Hey! What's up? :D" _

A voice crackled on their transmitted from the Carrier, demanding that they identify themselves. Hawkeye replied calmly, easily lying to S.H.I.E.L.D., as Lottie replied to Jack.

"_On my way to a party atm. ;) Hbu?"_

She didn't have to wait long for his answer.

"_Don't get too drunk! And not much, just lots of studying." _

Not bothering to text him back, she turned her phone off and chucked it into a drink holder beside her. It would only get in the way once they were inside. Her hands came to rest on the twin shotguns that lay against her hips. Loki's magic came in handy, and Hawkeye had been an excellent teacher when it came to combat, but she felt comforted knowing that if she got into a tight spot, she could just aim and shoot.

Her mind roamed over the contents of the past day. The plane had landed shortly after Loki left her, and they'd emerged once again into their New York base in the abandoned warehouse. The scientific team had been working hard, and progress on the Tesseract was now nearly completed. Awaiting the signal from Loki that they were to step into motion, she had retreated to her room and waited for him to contact her. Long hours had passed. At some point she had fallen into a restless sleep, filled with monsters and terror. A buzzing in her right arm had woken her. Loki's ring had lit up, glowing like a beacon in the semi-darkness, sending chills through her blood. For a moment she simply stared at it, before she was in action. Loki's green tunic and black pants were replaced with a more serviceable jumpsuit. Her hair was swept into a loose side braid, the pistols were strapped to her hips, and then she was out into the hall, already calling for Hawkeye. Not two hours later they had boarded the plane, accompanied by only a few men, following the pull on Lottie's ring. It drew her like a siren, irresistible, unfathomable in its power. She knew where he was…somehow she could almost _see _it. He called to her with as much clarity as if he had stood next to her. Following her instructions, they had flown to this location, several thousand feet over the sandy shores of the Carolinas.

Now, the enormity of the Carrier loomed over them. Hawkeye handed over control of the plane to one of the other men and opened the side door. Instantly, a cold wind invaded the interior of the aircraft, piercing through the thing material of Lottie's jumpsuit. Taking a deep breath, she welcomed the cold with abandon. As it hit her lungs, it flooded her with pure _life_. The chill fed her, made her strong. Moving to stand beside Hawkeye, she followed his line of sight as he drew an arrow back on the string. With meticulous aim, he let the arrow fly. Lottie watched as it landed on the outer rim of one of the engines. She nodded approval to the archer beside her and moved back into the cockpit.

"Move away," she instructed.

The pilot pulled the nose of the plane up and they accelerated upward and to the right, passing over the top surface of the Carrier. Turning back to Hawkeye, she held out her hand, and he silently handed her the trigger that would release the explosives planted in the arrow he had fired. Watching out the side window, she pressed the small red button, feeling a surge of power as fire illuminated the sky. The blast was loud, and the shock waves rocked the plane slightly. Once Lottie was satisfied that the explosion had ended, she spoke to the pilot.

"Move back toward the Carrier, and watch for missiles. They will have spotted us by now."

He nodded in reply, obeying her without question. The pull on Lottie's mind was now nearly painful. He was close…so close to her.

"Pull up by the blast site," she said, as she strapped an extra knife to her belt.

The pilot complied immediately, and she opened the side door, waiting for a moment until they were close enough for her to make the jump. Beneath her feet, the sky plunged away, revealing a freefall of more than twenty thousand feet. Ahead, the charred edges of the Carrier were about five feet away. She looked to Hawkeye who was standing beside her.

"Follow the plan," she said.

He nodded, once, in reply, and then she jumped. She cleared the distance with a couple of feet to spare, landed on her side, rolled, and was up in the space of a few seconds. Poised on her toes, muscles tensed to spring, she scanned her surroundings but perceived no immediate threats. Slowly, cautiously, she moved toward the Carrier's interior. A noise made her spin, but it was only a severed wire, hanging from the ceiling with sparks radiating off its tip. The silence was nearly eerie.

Still moving cautiously, like a beast on the prowl, she stepped over a pile of debris and found herself in a seemingly unscathed passageway. It was illuminated by several dim light bulbs which protruded from the wall, and was unoccupied for as far as she could see in either direction.

Following the call of her Master, she turned to the left and started down the hallway.

He was close.

Loki.


End file.
